


Oblivion is a State of Mind

by MoMoMomma



Series: Properties of Life [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alpha Deputy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe- No Cult, Dirty Talk, Implied Poly Seeds, Implied Relationships, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Oblivious, Oblivious Deputy, Omega Jacob Seed, Omega John Seed, Omega Joseph Seed, Omega Seeds, Phone Sex, Slow Burn, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 118,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: Inspired by this prompt on Tumblr: Okay but imagine everyone trying to tell alpha!dep that he’s being aggressively pursued by the local they’re-probably-crazy omega!seed family, and he’s just brushing it off like nah I don’t believe you.This is...precisely that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was all sparked from a conversation on tumblr about how my Dep, Rook, is a lovable but completely stupid man. You can find it [ HERE ](http://momomomma2.tumblr.com/post/175180208656/growing-up-together-childhood-friends-abo), it provides a little background but nothing that isn't explained in the fic. Hope you enjoy!

Rook has seen interventions on television. He knows the classic set up, all the people who care about someone shoved into one room awaiting their unsuspecting target. He knows it so well he can predict when it’s going to happen, has annoyed people by elbowing them and pointing it out before it happens. 

He knows this and yet he just...allows himself to be guided into a seat at the 8 Bit. Smiles pleasantly at his gathered friends, pleased for a moment that they’re all in one place instead of him having to run here there and everywhere to see them. 

And then the alarm bells start in his head.

“Guys…” He says slowly, shrinking back in his seat. “What is going on?”

Everyone glances at each other, seemingly unwilling to speak up first, before Adelaide sighs and pins him in place with an unimpressed stare.

“Honey, I love you. But you are the _dumbest_ fucking Alpha I have ever met. And I married one of the sorry sonsofbitches.”

Hurk makes an irritated huff at his side but Rook is too busy goggling at her to pay attention to it.

“What? What the hell did I do?!”

“Rook,” Grace’s even tone drags his attention over even as Adelaide rolls her eyes at him. “You aren’t the most...observant person in the world.”

“Fucking oblivious,” Jess snorts, Rook baring his teeth at the other Alpha for a moment before he refocuses. 

“I’m pretty observant! I mean, yeah, I’m not too good at, like, subterfuge and shit but...what does that matter?”

“Man, I’m pretty sure an Omega’d have to shove your hand down their pants for you to figure out they were slickin’ up for you.” Sharky tells him with a hand on his shoulder. 

Rook is dazed for a moment at the mental image before he shakes it off with a physical toss of his head. He instinctively swipes his cheek against the back of Sharky’s hand, scenting the unmated Omega for a split second before the words make him freeze. His eyes slide over as he tips his head upright, gaze narrowed in. He tucks his hands in his lap, out of reach, just in case.

“Uh...Sharky? If you wanted to...uh… _confess_ something, I think that maybe oughta be something done in private.”

Sharky pulls a face, yanks his hand away with a muttered “gross, you’re like a brother” that has Rook frowning at him. He’s not _gross_. He’s been assured by a few Omegas before that he’s a perfectly kind and acceptable heat partner! Alright, well, to be fair a few times it was a slurred out “you’re a _really_ good fuck” when the Omega was still locked on his knot and come drunk...

But still!

He doesn’t get a chance to defend himself, Hurk elbowing him on his side and yanking his attention away.

“Look, man, you ain’t noticed but we sure did--yessir, we did. Those Seeds? They are on you like bees on a honeycomb, dude, and that ain’t a dumb comparison neither. They’re chasing after your knot like you’re some kinda porn star.”

“I’m sorry?!”

Rook stares around the table, helplessly looking for some sort of explanation. No one seems content to give him one, though Nick is looking at him like he sort of wants to give him a hug. Rook needs a damn hug right about now. The Seeds are...they’re nice, sure, but a lot of people are nice to him! He’s a Sheriff’s Deputy! It behooves most people to be nice in the hopes he’ll be a little lenient next time he pulls up to their car or house with his sirens on. 

People can be nice-- _Omegas_ can be nice--for the sake of just being nice! Not because it’s all some grand scheme to score a home run!

“Look, guys, I appreciate...whatever the hell this is.” Rook indicates the gathered party with a helpless wave. “But the Seeds are just...they’re nice people. They don’t know too many people since they’re new to the area and so am I. Makes sense that strangers would stick together, you know?”  
“Oh my god,” Jess stares at him, mouth slightly agape. “You really are that fucking stupid, huh? How’d you even _survive_ this long?”

“Watch it.” Rook snarls, the Alpha in his chest rising to the challenge. 

He’s tense. This is fucking weird and he wants this conversation over with, _yesterday_. He’s never loved being the center of attention, and it shows with how fast his hackles go up, how ready he is to meet Jess’ muttered insult with teeth even though on most days they get along perfectly fine. 

He sees Sharky and Adelaide flinch back and Grace and Hurk’s neutral scents swirl, shoved directly at him in an attempt to calm. Nick is similarly tense, shoulders up around his ears as he swings his gaze back and forth between Rook and Jess, probably trying to pick which one he has a better shot at restraining. Jess bares her teeth back before she sighs, throws herself back in her chair, chin kicked up the smallest amount.

Submission. Rook hasn’t forced it out of another Alpha in a while, not one he wasn’t wrestling to the ground with handcuffs already out. It breaks his focus, breaks him out of his irritation, and he mutters a quiet “sorry” that has everyone around him breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Look,” Rook blows out a frustrated breath, scrubbing his hands down his face. “You guys are just...I dunno, I know gossip goes fast when it’s a boring place. And me and the Seeds are still the newest bit of chatter this place has. But that doesn’t mean they’re all-- _gagging_ for it or something like that.”

 _They are not_ , Rook sternly and silently tells his cock when it twitches at the thought. _So you fucking stop that right now_.

“Sweetheart, have you ever considered maybe an outside point of view is seeing something you’re not?” Adelaide asks, a bit more gently now.

“Like what?” Rook asks helplessly.

There’s a collective inhale and then too many voices talking at once. Over top of each other to the point where Rook can only catch bits and pieces.

“--might as well be throwing stacks of money in your face with all that flashy flaunting--”

“--like his ass can’t go hunting by himself--”

“--practically made you a feast, dude, and that’s--”

“--you fucking _reek_ after they get near you, unintentional scenting, my ass.”

“--bet he does sermons about how there’s a _perfect_ Alpha out there for everyone--”

“--like kids in a damn candy store, man, looking at you like you’re a _snack_ \--”

“Alright!” Rook shouts over the cacophony, hands held up in the air like he’s trying to calm a riot. “Christ Almighty! I can’t hear myself think!”

He puts his hands down on the table, sighs, and looks across at Nick.

“One at a time, please. Before my brain starts to leak out of my ears.”

“John is like a damn peacock every time you get around him.” Nick explains, an edge to his voice. “All little Omega whines and baring his throat like he can already feel your teeth there. Don’t think I ain’t noticed how often he offers to give you ‘flying lessons’ in that fancy plane of his. Like he’s gonna be able to teach you anything while he’s thinking about what’s in your pants.”

“He doesn’t do that stuff with other people, Rook.” Grace calmly interjects before he can protest. “I’m pretty sure that man would die before he showed his throat off like he does for you. And have you _seen_ how he reacts when you talk about how good a pilot your brother is? Word of advice; don’t let King around him. John will probably burn his plane.”

Rook frowns, thinks for a moment. Sure, John whined at him a little more than most Omegas did but...he knows John’s backstory. What tiny bit John has told him anyhow. The poor man was probably _conditioned_ to seek Alpha approval after his shitshow of a childhood. And an Alpha who also happens to be a Sheriff’s Deputy is a damn good authority figure to get on the good side of. 

And, yeah, John shows his throat off sometimes, but it’s never an _overt_ movement. It happens when he stretches or when he tips his head back to laugh or when he’s asking Rook for a favor. A lot of Omegas do it unconsciously. Hell, Sharky’s tipped his head so far that Rook could see the pulse under his skin in an attempt to get Rook to let him off easy for setting yet another piece of public property on fire. 

It’s Omega stuff. Normal even if the person doing it couldn’t be called that in a million years.

“Not to mention how he shoves all that big city money in your face. How much shit has he bought for you?” Nick asks him with a accusing finger pointed at his face.

“Hey, those are things he’s gotten me because I’ve done something for him and I won’t let him pay me back!” Rook defends hotly.

The ranch John bought wasn’t in the best of shape when they first got it, long abandoned by people who got bored of the novelty of vacationing in backcountry. Rook’s not too bad with his hands, time spent at his grandfather’s house during the summers teaching him a little bit about everything when it comes to upkeep. He’d lent a hand more than once alongside the other members of the Seed’s church, helping fix the porch or rip up some of the overgrown landscaping so John can replace it. 

Rook had said no to payment because that kinda stuff is just what people do for each other. But John had insisted, paying him back in the form of new sunglasses when Rook’s had fallen and broken as he lent over the railing to test its hold. And a new jacket when Rook’s old one had gotten paint splashed on it from a can set precariously on stack of crates.

He’d argued at first but John had gone ahead anyhow and Rook figured maybe John didn’t like owing people stuff, didn’t like the idea of owing an _Alpha_ something. So he relented and John had seemed pleased and that was that.

“Getting someone a gift as thanks doesn’t tend to come with that high a price tag.” Grace tells him with a pointed look at the name brand plastered across the breast of his jacket. 

Rook winces, hand twitching to go cover it. He admits, he’d been a curious little shit and looked it up after Hudson had caught sight, letting out a low whistle and a murmured “ _some_ body’s got money in their bank.” The price had made him balk but he’d reminded himself that John was really well off with his inheritance and the money he made as a lawyer.

“He wears expensive stuff! It’s probably all he knows how to shop for!”

Grace doesn’t respond, just steadily stares at him before she slowly lifts a hand to cover her eyes with a sighed “oh my god.”

“Alright so...that’s one. _Maybe_.” Rook huffs when the gathered sigh at him almost in unison, fighting back the scowl. “I still think you guys are out of your damn minds. But if it is an Omega who’s after me, then it’s just one. You guys are acting like the whole family is over the moon.”

“They _are_.” Jess mutters, though her eyes hold less of a challenge when she meets his. “Rook, Jacob took you _hunting_ with him. Because--what the fuck was his excuse?--he didn’t think he’d be safe out there on his own?”

“There are _bears_ in Hope County!” Rook says helplessly, hands offered up in a “come _on_ ” gesture. “Of course he didn’t feel safe! The Sheriff’s Department literally issues warnings to hunters to not go out alone during certain times of the year because of the wildlife, how is Jacob being one of the few people in this damn place who actually listens to our bulletins suspicious?!”

“Cause he’s a fucking Alpha with the wrong pipes? Look, Jacob might be an Omega but nothing about that man screams anything but dangerous. He was a career soldier for fucks sake, it ain’t like those kinda guys scare easy, and he’s got that stupid wolf-dog of his. He would’ve been just fine on his own but he purposefully picked you out and asked _you_.”

“Judge is a big baby and you know it, he just _looks_ scary.” Rook interjects with a pointed finger.

He’s still not sure if Jacob’s pet is a real wolf or just the “husky mix” Jacob had told him it was with a small smile. It’s awful big to be any sort of domesticated dog, sure, but Rook has startled the poor guy a couple times enough for him to go running behind Jacob. He’s certainly not fierce enough to withstand any wild animal attack, even if he appears protective of the Omega whose side he’s constantly trotting at. 

Judge is a damn good whatever-the-hell-he-is but he’s certainly no bear-fighter.

“You get why he has that thing, right?” Grace sighs when Rook shrugs with a muttered, “because he likes dogs?”

“Rook, you were _in_ the Army. You know Omegas get assigned the K9’s so it throws off their scent. Nobody in this town even thought Jacob was an Omega until we saw how he acted around you. He hid his scent under Judge. But you come waltzing along and everyone in the Spread Eagle could smell the way he was pushing at you.”

“I met him when I was breaking up a bar fight between him and some other idiot.” Rook defends. “Omegas do that kind of stuff all the time when the cops show up. It’s to try and get us to go easy on them, especially Alpha cops.”

He shoots Sharky a pointed look to which the man flushes and sinks lower in his seat. Hurk pulls Rook’s attention away with another elbow to his side.

“Yeah, man, but like--he coulda chosen lots of Alpha. They got some in that there church of theirs. And Rook, man, I know you’re the Terminator and shit but you are _terrible_ at huntin’.”

“I’m a good hunter!”

“You ain’t.” Hurk tells him flatly. “You like to try and make friends with everythin’. My daddy says you’re one of those Alphas with more knot than sense.”

Adelaide snorts, “He’d certainly know what that’s like” but Hurk ignores her.

“You don’t even _like_ to hunt. I done seen other Omegas do that kinda stuff. It’s like cookin’ a meal but like--with more blood and shit. He’s tryin’ to show you he can provide for you.”

“We didn’t even catch anything!” 

“Doesn’t matter. He was still showing off.” Jess says with a slap of her hand on the table. “I’ve done the same shit to pretty Omegas I was trying to take to bed. Bet he got in real close, whispered in your ear because he told you that you had to stay quiet or some other bullshit. Cause you came back into town smelling like you two had been rolling around together.”

Rook winces, tries to think back. Sure, Jacob had been pressed in pretty close to his side but-- _bears_. And Jacob really was trying to hunt even if Rook kept fucking it up for him every single time they came across something. So it makes sense he was keeping his voice low and Rook knows they both don’t have the best hearing after years of gunfire and explosions, he had to be in close for Rook to be able to understand him.

He might have come back smelling like Jacob but he comes back smelling like Adelaide when he visits the marina. It’s a thing, scents rub off, especially if they get in close and both of them are unmated. 

“Alright. But that’s two. And don’t get me started on Joseph because, if you guys haven’t noticed, he’s a _preacher_. I’m pretty sure he’s just like Jerome, they both have to take vows or something.”

“Nuh-uh!” Sharky waves his finger around. “Cause I went and asked! Not him cause, y’know, Joseph’s weird for an Omega. But I asked some of those Peggies of his. He says, according to them, that God makes a perfect Alpha for every Omega. And that it ain’t no sin to lay with the one God intended for you.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean _I’m_ his intended! Or that he even thinks I am.”

“Dude,” Sharky says softly, eyes wide and face slack. “Did you even _see_ how he was actin’ at the barbecue? My granny woulda thought he was the best Omega in the world. All dressed up pretty and hangin’ on your arm. He basically made you a plate.”

“I was a _guest_!” Rook whines at him. “You’re supposed to be nice to guests! And the other Deputies say the Peggies are always really nice to them when they run into each other. How is it suddenly weird just because it’s me?”

“Because he wasn’t bein’ nice because you’re a Deputy? He was being nice because he wants your knot!”

“Oh, that’s horse shit.” Rook grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “People are allowed to be nice without wanting to fuck other people, Sharky.”

“Sugar, even if that is true, nice don’t keep him at your side the whole time.” Adelaide points out with a huff.

Like _she’s_ the one who’s under attack right now.

“He didn’t stay at my side the _whole_ time!”

“He sure did. The only time he left was to get you more food! I been to those little cookouts of theirs before, the man is usually flittin’ around like a gnat, going here, there, and everywhere. But he stuck right by you.”

“I’d never been to one before. Maybe he was just making sure the new kid didn’t have to sit at the lunch table by himself.” Rook tells her with a squinted glare. “Because it’s not like any of my _friends_ were gonna sit with me. I didn’t even know you were there, you didn’t come say hi!”

“We couldn’t get close! Honey, every single time an Omega even wandered near you Joseph looked like he was gonna go nuclear. He didn’t even look happy when his brothers stopped by to say hi to you, I thought I was gonna get a show alongside my potato salad. You couldn’t smell how hard he was shoving his scent around?”

Rook blanches, tries to think up a lie fast enough that he won’t get caught. Honestly, he hadn’t really noticed it other than the subconscious “oh, Joseph smells good” because he was too busy eating. He’d just gotten off a 12 hour overnight and was absolutely ravenous, only barely having enough manners to not just tip his plate to his mouth and shovel the food in. 

Which is why, when he gets the time, he really has to apologize to Joseph. He’d seen the man’s pinched look occasionally, when Rook drowned his mac and cheese with ketchup or when he piled enough coleslaw on his pulled pork that he could barely taste the meat underneath. 

Joseph’s from Georgia, he was probably raised with really good manners and Rook’s mom would’ve tanned his hide if she’d seen how he was acting then. 

“Joseph always has a thick scent, though.” He defends weakly when he realizes too many people are staring at him. “You all know this. Even for an Omega it’s strong and you’re not supposed to mention it, they told us this stuff in middle school, for fucks sake.”

“You are...so fucking dumb.” Nick tells him with a weak laugh.

Rook doesn’t bare his teeth this time because 1. Nick’s not an Alpha he’s ever struggled for dominance with, the man content to let him take the lead, and 2. He feels absolutely _exhausted_. He just worked an 8 hour shift after being called in during the night for backup to break up a fight at the Spread Eagle. He’s hungry and he’s tired and he’s really not in the mood for all this. 

“What am I even supposed to do about this?” He asks on a sigh, eyes skipping around the table. “Like, I appreciate whatever the hell kind of intervention this is--because apparently I’m the biggest dumbass in Hope County? But I don’t know what you want me to do. Omegas don’t share Alphas and so even if more than one of the Seeds are interested, it’s not like I’m gonna go in and be some...I dunno, wedge between their sibling bond just to get my dick wet.”

“Naw, man, see, Omegas are _good_ at sharing. It’s Alphas who ain’t too good at it. I seen it in Kyrat, one Alpha for a couple different Omegas.” Hurk tells him to which Rook groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Were those Omegas _brothers_?”

“Well...naw.”

“Then there you go.” Rook pushes himself to his feet, holds up his hands against the immediate protest. “Look. I am tired. I am hungry. I am very confused and still think you guys are out of your damn minds. I appreciate whatever the hell this was? But I would really like to just go home and be unconscious for a couple hours now.”

He leaves before any of them can protest, though a few try, striding out of the 8 Bit and back into the slowly setting sunlight.

And nearly running smack into the Seed Brothers when he steps off the porch. 

Rook yelps, steps back, holds his hands up to wave off the immediately reaching arms from in front of him. He straightens, looks at the gathered Omegas, and sighs. He should have swapped out his squad car for his truck before he came and answered Grace’s request to meet her here. 

He’s heard Pratt complain about it before, sometimes, when the Sheriff can’t hear and tell them all to suck it up. How he can’t even go grab groceries or lunch in his SUV without someone seeing the decal and flagging him down. 

“How can I help you?” Rook asks after a moment of silence, watching the three eye each other before Joseph offers him a small smile. 

“We were wondering if perhaps you would join us for dinner?”

“Are you going to try and convince me to join the church?” Rook asks with a small laugh, watching how Joseph grin widens. “Because, like I said, I’m really flattered but I’ve never been one for religion. I can come to a sermon or two but I’m not--just really not into the whole organized religion thing.”

“Just a dinner.” John assures him, his lemon and blueberry scent just a little stronger when he laughs along. “We all realized we haven’t...we’ve met with you individually but never together. We thought, maybe, a dinner would be a nice time to actually get to know each other as opposed to random outings.”

“And I already went hunting for the meal.” Jacob tells him with an arched brow as Rook winces with mouthed “sorry!”

“Uh, well, I did just get off. And I’m hungry. So, I guess I can? I won’t be able to stay long, though.” He tells them with a hand rubbing at his nape sheepishly. “I’m kinda exhausted and I haven’t changed clothes yet. If you want to reschedule for a time when I’m more human, I promise I won’t be offended.”

“You can borrow some of mine.” Jacob grunts, Joseph and John going cautiously still at his side. “You’ll swim in them, but they’ll fit.”

“Alright, alright, you’re big, I get it.” Rook laughs, head twisting when the door opens behind him. “Hey, Addie, you heading out too?”

“Sure am. Xander gets bored if I leave him alone for too long.” Her arms wind around his waist and Rook pets at them idly as she glances over at the Seeds.

Who are _all_ pointed looks and still forms now. Rook stops petting with a chagrined twist to his mouth, letting his hands fall to his sides as he carefully reigns his scent in. Right, they’re God fearing. They probably don’t approve of him getting his scent all over Addie, even if she and Xander aren’t mated or anything. Still disrespectful, even though Xander never had a problem with it, even commenting how good Addie smelled after she’s been around Rook and they’ve rubbed off on each other because Addie’s touchy and Rook likes being hugged.

“What’re y’all doing in this neck of the woods?”

“Inviting Rook to dinner.” John says, clearing his throat with a rough sound that has Rook frowning at him.

Is he getting sick? That was a weird sound. Almost like a growl but not really. He’ll have to keep an eye on him at dinner. 

Medic habits die hard, he guesses. Especially because Hope County has a shortage of doctors and Rook’s playing double duties more often than not.

“Ain’t you sweet.” Addie tells him, stepping aside to brush a kiss over Rook’s cheek. “Have fun boys.”

There’s that sound again. Rook frowns at John who starts and looks away once he notices. He’ll have to ask him about it--he’s pretty sure John’s one of those people who doesn’t tell others when he’s feeling under the weather. 

“Thank you, Miss Drubman. Be safe on your journey home and tell your mate we said hello.” Joseph says, keeping the same intense eye contact he has with everyone until Addie steps away and strides towards her helicopter.

“He isn’t my mate. But I’ll be sure and get right on that.”

“Food should be done soon.” Jacob interjects, eyeing Rook up and down. “You alright to drive? We came together, I can drive you if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Or he could ride with us.” John huffs, eyes flickering between the 8 Bit and Jacob as he takes short, scenting inhales. “Smells like there’s plenty of people in there who could get his car back to the station safely.”

“John. Jacob. Enough.” Joseph chastises and Rook waves a hand.

“No, it’s alright. I know some Alphas take offense to the whole ‘Omegas offering to take care’ thing. But I’ve never cared about it. To me, just seems like someone’s trying to be a good friend.”

“Of course.” Joseph’s smile is tight and Rook wonders if _he’s_ caused offense, overstepped his bounds somehow. “Regardless, I prefer John’s idea. If you are indeed too tired to drive to our home, you will be more so after we’ve filled your stomach. We would not want to put you in unnecessary danger.”

“He could stay the night.” John offers with a small smile in Rook’s direction. “The ranch certainly doesn’t lack for space. I made sure of that when I purchased it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything…”

“Intrusions don’t tend to be taking advantage of what’s offered up.” Jacob says with a sharp look in John’s direction. “You don’t seem the type anyhow.”

“I think we should ask _Rook_ what he’s comfortable with as opposed to continually making wild offers.” Joseph says finally, like he’s growing more agitated with his brothers by the second.

Rook’s the youngest of his family, two boys not making room for a middle child, but he hears it’s hell. He can only imagine Joseph is as calm as he is, that he exudes his scent in the way he always does, because he got used to playing balancing point between John and Jacob. 

“I can drive by myself? And then we can go from there?” Rook offers, thinking how close Seed Ranch is to Rye and Sons if it comes down to it. 

He’s crashed on Nick’s couch before when he’s been too tired to make it home. Nick doesn’t mind another Alpha’s scent in his house, seems eased by it as Kim grows bigger and bigger by the day, like he’s happy for the extra protection. Neither Rook nor Kim have the heart to tell him it’s because they can both tell the baby girl in her stomach is going to be an Alpha and he’s already adjusting to the extra scent. 

Nobody seems pleased by his offer though Jacob tips his head and John shrugs, not fighting him on it. Joseph clasps his hands together in front of him, chin tipped up slightly as another wave of his scent washes over Rook. He takes what’s offered, inhaling just a bit deeper, dragging the cedar and mint smell deep, letting it perk up his exhausted brain. Sometimes smelling an Omega can give an Alpha a little extra energy, just a touch more gas in a tank that’s running on empty. 

Sharky does it on occasion when he’s asking Rook to go do stupid shit after a long shift and Nancy at the station will do it if they’re all dragging ass after a long day. Their scents don’t do quite what Joseph’s does to his body but Rook shoves the curl of lust down low, reminding himself that the man is a _preacher_ and that just because he’s spent the last hour or so surrounded by a lot of different Omegas and their scents doesn’t mean anything. 

“Right, so, I’ll follow you guys?” Rook drags his keys from his pocket. “And you have a rearview so if I suddenly fall asleep at the wheel or something I’m sure you’ll notice.”

“You’re too careful for that.” Jacob tells him before turning and leaving before the warmth of the compliment can sink in.

 _Fucking stop_ , Rook hisses at the purring Alpha in the back of his brain. _He’s trying to be nice and just because you haven’t knotted up in a while doesn’t mean we go chasing anything that smiles at us_.

“Call if you feel as though you might. It would only take a moment for one of us to take the wheel.” Joseph tells him quietly before following behind his brother, leaving John and Rook staring at one another for a long moment.

“You...smell.” John says, wincing like even he doesn’t like the words. “Must’ve been quite a few in your little group inside.”

“I can shower?” Rook offers, a bit off-centered at John’s abrupt words. 

Shit. Some Omegas have really sensitive noses. Rook isn’t bothered by the usual mix of Alpha, Beta, Omega that clings to him when he gets together with his motley group but John might be. It would certainly explain why John sticks a little closer to him when they’re together, probably trying to force himself to adjust to it. They haven’t seen each other in over a week or so, he might be a little thrown after the distance.

“At the ranch.” John nods like it’s not up for debate. “You can use my shower. It’s big and I keep it well stocked. Might even help after your long day.”

“You’re too sweet,” Rook tells him, something in his brain jumping for joy at the thought of a shower bigger than the small square he makes due with at his house. “Might just take you up on that.”

“Anytime.” John murmurs, before they both jump when Jacob honks the horn and he turns with a scowl, stomping towards the SUV. 

Rook looks after them for a moment, watching as John climbs into the backseat and immediately shoves his head between the front ones, snapping at Jacob for something. He shifts, uneasy, ready to go pull the door open and yank them apart if need be, his Deputy instincts warning him of a fight, before it eases when Joseph smiles benignly through the windshield at him.

Right. Just brotherly bickering then. God knows he and King can go at it--though it’s expected since they’re both Alphas. 

“You’re going home with them?” 

Rook turns, bouncing his keys in his hand as he meets Grace’s even stare. It’s a bit of a shock to his nose, her neutral and clean Beta scent after being surrounded by the Seeds, but it’s a necessary bit of clarity. Calms his body down, if nothing else.

“Yeah, they invited me to dinner. Said they wanted to sit down and get to know each other.”

“Right.” She arches a brow. “And you still think they just wanna be friends.”

“Friends have dinner with each other, Grace. _We’ve_ had dinner with each other.”

“I’m not an Omega.” She waves his defense off before he can retort. “I’m just saying be on guard. Be careful. Alphas can get stupid around too many Omegas at once. Think about what we’ve been saying.”

As if Rook’s not already going to be thinking about how his friends have collectively lost their minds for a _long_ time.

Rook nods, strides the short distance to his squad car, feeling her eyes on his back the entire time. He flashes Jacob a thumbs up once he’s in and ready to go, still aware of Grace’s calculating gaze as he follows the SUV out of the parking lot. It’s weird.

But _everything_ is weird lately. 

Maybe he’ll have the Sheriff start checking the water supply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think or if you want more! I accidentally fell in total love with this universe, wherein my son can be the stupid shit he truly is in reality.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys really liked this! I'm so flattered, thank you so much for your support! Have more of Rook being a stupid idiot! <3 <3

Rook’s just barely climbed out of his car, slammed the door shut and taken two steps away, when Jacob calls a laughing “incoming!” from the front porch. He spreads his stance, drops his keys to the ground moments before Judge hits him at a dead run. It takes him off his feet entirely, dropping him backwards into the dirt, and Rook laughs as he furiously scruffs his hands up and down Judge’s wriggling form.

Wolf-dog, his ass. He’s never met a wolf this nice. If Jacob had taken Judge hunting with him he’d have probably tried to make friends with any animal they came across, dangerous or not.

“Judge,” Jacob appears at his side, staring down with one arched brow and a smile still playing around his mouth. “Get off of him. Off.”

Judge complies with a whine, like he’s aggravated he has to leave, and Rook sits up, keeping an arm around the pup’s neck as he tries to lick at his face. 

“I don’t mind it. I grew up with dogs. I think he’s a cutie.” Rook smushes their faces together, Judge barking and doubling his efforts to lick every single inch he can reach. “You are! Yeah, you’re a good boy! You’re my favorite boy!”

“Now you really do need a change of clothes.” Jacob’s hand makes a weird movement, extending and returning back to his side before he offers it up again. “Need a hand?”

“Well, John said I could use the shower.” Rook laughs, grabbing onto Jacob’s forearm and letting him lever him onto his feet. “I thought I might get away with not needing it, but--uh.”

He and Jacob look down at once, at the now dirt-smeared uniform, still dotted with a couple drops of drool. He sweeps his hands down his front, turning slightly to offer up his back to Jacob.

“What’s the situation back there?”

“Dirt.” Jacob tells him, causing Rook to laugh and ruffle Judge’s head where he dances around in front of him.

“Wanna brush me off? You said food was gonna be ready, I don’t wanna waste everyone’s time by having to grab a shower before I eat but I also don’t wanna sit down to dinner completely filthy.”

There’s a long moment of quiet, so long Rook’s shoulders start to tense as his head turns to look over his shoulder. Crap. Some Omegas weren’t okay with touching Alphas a lot, especially Omegas like Jacob who seemed fairly contained and like they didn’t touch many people at _all_.

There’s something curious in Jacob’s eyes when they meet for a split second before he shrugs, purposefully loose, and braces a hand on Rook’s shoulder. His free hand is light when it sweeps over his back, a little harder when Rook think he hits a particularly stubborn bit of dirt. He’s thorough, though, going over everywhere a couple of times until he lets go with a sharp nod.

“You’re good.”

“Thank you.”

Rook turns, stares at Jacob, a thousand things failing on his tongue. He wants to ask if that was okay, if _Jacob_ is okay, if he overstepped some sort of invisible line asking him to clean him off. He usually makes sure he doesn’t put any Alpha orders into his voice when he’s talking to Omegas unless he absolutely has to but maybe it had slipped out? Maybe Jacob’s more susceptible to it?

John calling from where he stands on the porch with Joseph saves them both the embarrassment of Rook stumbling through his sentences.

“If you’re done playing petting zoo, dinner is ready!”

Rook laughs, waves a hand, curious at the scowl Jacob shoots John as he dips down for a moment to pluck Rook’s keys out of the dirt. There’s a fleeting thought, drifting across Rook’s mind like a passing car, that Jacob has big thighs. Powerful thighs.

He shoves down the mental image of Jacob on top of him, those same thighs working him up and down as he takes whatever he needs, so fast it almost makes him dizzy.

Fuck, he needs to get laid. Maybe he’ll go down to Fall’s End tomorrow, he’s got the day off, find himself a nice little Omega to roll around with until these stupid thoughts stop.

And ignore how his brain huffs that he doesn’t want just any Omega, he wants a _specific_ Omega.

A few of them, in fact, which really just goes to show how desperate he must be. 

He takes the offered keys, plods along behind Jacob as Judge dances in between them. John and Joseph seem tense once they step up onto the porch, Rook glancing guiltily at his still mucked up clothes.

“I can, uh--” He gestures to the length of his body. “I can go shower while you guys eat? I don’t mind eating a little later than everyone else.”

“That would hardly accomplish the goal of getting to know one another.” Joseph tells him with a small smile. “It is fine. Everything can be cleaned.”

Rook nods along, bobs his head because--what the hell is he supposed to do? He doesn’t want to go to dinner dirty but he also doesn’t want to insist on using someone else’s shower and clothes before they’re offered up. 

Goddamn manners. His mom better be really proud of him.

What he does do, however, once they enter the house and John leads them to the massive kitchen, it make a beeline for the sink. He scrubs at everything with the slightly floral scented soap sitting on the rim, under his nails and up to his elbows, until his skin is starting to irritate under the pressure. He’s just patting his hands dry on a towel that John offered up when Joseph pulls the cover off a nearby crock pot. 

The scent alone makes Rook groan, stomach howling, inhaling deeply as he turns towards it. It’s a bit of a twist, for a moment, his nose trying to seperate the smell of spiced meat and vegetables from the Omegas around him. He smells potatoes and mint and lemon and beef and gunpowder and Judge. It’s enough to make him lazy, make his steps heavy as he pads over to where Joseph’s slowly stirring the contents.

“What _is_ that?” He asks at his side, leaning forwards just a bit to drag in another lungful.

“A simple stew.” Joseph laughs, sets the lid down and cups his hand under the spoon as he pulls it from the inside, filled to the brim. “Filling but ultimately easy to throw together. A favorite of ours. Would you like to try it?”

“I’m gonna do more than try it.” Rook assures him, even as he opens his mouth wide.

There’s a split second where Joseph’s eyes go wide, the pupil expanding and his scent flaring between them. Rook nearly closes his mouth, berates himself for expecting someone else to spoon feed his grown ass, but he doesn’t get the chance when Joseph moves forwards.

The flavors explode on his tongue, soft meat and vegetables breaking apart under his teeth as he chews with one hand shielding his mouth. He groans, eyes rolling back for a brief second as it makes him even more ravenous, reminds him all he’s had today was a few slices of pizza hours ago and too many cups of coffee. Joseph is watching him closely, eyes still a little too dark, and Rook hurries to flash him a thumbs up.

Right. Omegas like to be complimented on their cooking. He’s been standing here like a cow chewing and didn’t say a damn thing about how good it was.

“S’really good!” He says around the mouthful, chewing quickly and swallowing it down. “It’s so good, it’s really gonna hit the spot after today.”

“Perfect.” Joseph murmurs, still watching him, before the shift of metal against metal makes them both look over.

Rook nearly cries at the sight of John leaning down, dragging a tray with fresh bread out of the oven. He hasn’t had homemade bread in so long, since the last time Kim got bored at home alone and greeted him and Nick at the door with a huffed “eat this stupid fucking thing, it took me forever to figure out how to make it.”

“You guys are gonna spoil me rotten. I may never leave.” He tells the gathered brothers, utterly failing to see the way all of them share small grins amongst themselves as he looks around the kitchen. “Bowls? I can set the table.”

“No need.” Jacob tells him, opening a cabinet and dragging out a handful, gesturing to the table with his elbow. “Sit. We’ll serve you.”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that.” Rook says even as John places a hand on his forearm, all but dragging him to his seat. 

“Relax. It’s the least we could do.”

Rook’s left idly petting Judge’s head when he shoves it onto his thigh, watching the brothers work. It’s like a well oiled machine, Joseph filling the bowls to the brim as John butters the thick slices Jacob cuts from the loafs. They seem to know what the other needs before it’s even asked for -- Jacob shifting over to let Joseph grab at the salt and pepper shakers, John holding out a hand for a new piece of bread even as he looks away to put the prepared one on a serving plate.

No wonder they wanted him to sit and get out of their way. Rook can only _imagine_ the chaos he would’ve caused if he’d tried to step into the middle of such a practiced scene.

He leans back when Joseph sets a bowl in front of him, humming happily as he drags in smell after smell. It reminds him a bit of dinner’s back home, the entire family gathered together as they devoured whatever his mom had made that night. He wonders, somewhat sadly, if the Seeds ever had something like that, even if it was just the three of them.

John lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, dragging his attention around as Jacob and Joseph set their own places at the table. 

“What would you like to drink?”

“What’cha got?”

“Tea, lemonade, water.” John looks chagrined for a moment, eyes flickering to Joseph for a split second. “Ah...we don’t typically approve of alcohol so I can’t offer you a beer.”

“Oh, s’alright. Tea’s fine!” 

He really wants a beer but he can have one later. He’s still got some in the fridge and he knows Nick always has some on hand if he winds up crashing there for the night. Rook is an Alpha in an Omega household right now and he needs to be careful of their rules and boundaries.

It’s not long before they’re all seated, Joseph and Jacob at the heads of the table while he and John sit across from one another. Judge goes off with a whine at Jacob’s snap and his short “bed," staring at them from the plush pillow in front of the fireplace with pleading eyes. Maybe if there’s some leftover bread, Rook will slip him a piece when no one’s looking.

He’s got his spoon in his hand, already sunk into the steaming stew, when he pauses, glances up at the group. None of them have made a move for their food yet, hands folded in front of them, eyes flickering between Rook and Joseph.

“Uh...oh!” He sets the spoon against the edge of the bowl. “Right. Grace, you guys probably say grace? I’m sorry, I didn’t even think.”

“You’re hungry.” Joseph says quietly, gaze gentle. “It is certainly understandable. You need not join us if you do not feel inclined. I know your religious beliefs are not...aligned with ours.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” 

Omega household, Omega rules. 

Be a good guest, Rook, for _fuck's_ sake. 

He offers up his palms at either side, letting Joseph and Jacob grasp them gently while John copies his action across the table. There’s a moment when he feels John’s ankle press against his under the table but he fights back the jolt, reminds himself maybe they all need to be touching for grace to be said, and bows his head.

Joseph keeps it...surprisingly short. Offers thanks for the Earth that provided their meal, for the peaceful time in which they have to eat it, for the abundance that allows them to share the food with Rook. He mutters a quiet “amen” once Joseph finishes, dropping the hands at his sides, following Jacob’s suit as he immediately digs in.

“So, you’re not originally from here, yes? Where did you grow up?” John asks after the initial rush of getting food into them has passed. 

Rook finishes his bite, takes a moment to wash it down with tea that’s so sweet it almost makes his teeth ache, before he answers.

“Iowa, originally. Cedar Rapids area. My mom almost had a heart attack when I told her I was moving here, the mountains are a little different from what I’m used to.”

“I bet.” Jacob snorts, a perfect bite out of the bread he’s holding. “City boy, huh?”

“Hey, not all city. We sometimes went camping!”

“Did you sleep in a tent?”

“Well...no. My uncle had an RV.” Rook mutters, the brothers laughing for a moment before Jacob shakes his head.

“You ever want to actually go camping, let me know. I’ll take you out.”

“We could make it a trip. I haven’t gone camping in a while.” John offers with a strange look at Jacob, eyes a little too sharp.

“I fear our dear brother’s idea of camping might just sour the experience for you.” Joseph tells him with a quick and brief touch to his wrist.

Jacob rolls his eyes. “Just because the two of you think that you need to take half a grocery store with you to go camping doesn’t mean my way is wrong.”

“You ate _fish_.” John tells him with a stab of his spoon. “Fish that had literally been in the river maybe a half hour previous. You didn’t even clean it off with fresh water.”

“It came _out_ of the water.” Jacob argues, Rook and Joseph sharing a glance that tells him this is an old argument being rehashed for the hundredth time.

“And your family?” Joseph asks, slowly winding his spoon through his food, not taking another bite until Rook finishes the one he’s just slipped into his mouth. 

“He has a brother.” John grouches across the table, Grace’s warnings about King flashing through Rook’s mind as he eyes the man carefully. “ _Apparently_ he’s the best pilot in the world.”

For the love of God. John isn’t possessive, he’s _jealous_. Just like Nick is when Rook makes those same comments, all bluster and “how d’you know if he’s the best when you won’t even let other people prove how good they are?!” 

He knew his friends were out of their damn minds.

“Hey, King’s Air Force. He sort of has to be a good pilot or, y’know, they wouldn’t let him keep doing what he’s doing.”

“Air Force? What made you go Army?” Jacob asks.

Rook shrugs, bounces the handle of his spoon against his finger for a moment.

“I have shit for night vision. Failed the pilot test pretty much immediately because of it. I liked the Army’s structure and the fact that I could be a medic there and they’d teach me as I went. Figured it was better to learn with my hands in the field than in some classroom.”

“You have bad night vision and yet you expect us to let you drive off after dinner?” John asks incredulously with a gesture to the large french doors behind him, curtains open to expose the way darkness is slowly creeping across the land. 

“Hey, hey, I said I don’t have good night vision for flying! I’m okay in a car provided the headlights work!” Rook defends with a laugh, John shaking his head at him with a muttered “you’re staying the night and that’s _final_.”

“A matter best discussed for after we’ve finished our food.” Joseph interrupts, playing mediator once more as he sets his spoon down and reaches for Rook’s now empty bowl. “More?”

“Oh, I can grab it.” Rook trails off as Joseph simply smiles and pushes away from the table, making his way over to the counter.

Right. He either made or helped make the meal. He probably doesn’t want Rook making a mess or anything as he tries to get another bowl full. The thought of it makes Rook glance over guiltily, trying to surreptitiously check how much stew is left. He remembers his dad laughing at the end of some meals, looking at the meager contents of whatever was left over and joking that he’d _planned_ on taking some of it for lunch tomorrow but that was clearly out of the question.

He can have one more bowl and then he’ll stop. If he’s still hungry he can deal with it, he’s pretty sure there’s a pizza place close enough to Nick’s that’ll deliver. 

“We made plenty.” Jacob’s knuckles knock into the back of his hand like he can read Rook’s thoughts. “There’s a whole other crockpot. Eat until you’re full.”

“Please.” Joseph echoes as he sets the now full bowl down in front of Rook, slipping into his seat once more. “We would be remiss if we let an Alpha leave our home still wanting.”

Rook shoves a heaping spoonful into his mouth, nodding along, like he wants to prove he’s going to listen. He’s still going to go easy, he knows he can eat and eat and eat if someone lets him and he doesn’t want to take food off someone else’s plate to satisfy him. 

Especially not an Omega. The thought of one going hungry while he gorges himself makes him a bit sick to his stomach, Rook swallowing back the imagined guilt with another pull of his tea.

“And your parents?” Joseph asks, picking up the conversation once more. “Still with us and in good health, I hope?”

“Oh yeah, mom and dad are still back in Cedar Rapids. Both of ‘em are doctors so sometimes King and I have to bully them into taking care of their own health instead of others but they’re doing good. I call mom every Sunday and Dad usually mid-week or so when he’s buried in charts and needs a break.”

“That’s good to hear. It sounds like you have a good relationship with them both.”

Silence falls, thick and heavy, and Rook is brutally reminded that the Seeds did not have what he did. He doesn’t know much, merely what he’s heard through the grapevine--Old Man Seed’s drunken abuse and their mother’s absent presence. John’s adoptive family’s accusations and attempts at expunging his imaginary sins.

A growl bubbles up before he can stop it, rumbling from his chest through his mouth, through teeth clamped tight like Rook could physically bite it back. It _burns_ him to think of Omegas treated like that, especially when he and King were raised to respect every single Omega that ever crossed their path. He thinks of the pain, the suffering, the brothers must have gone through and drops his head, trying to contain his swelling rage.

He knows the Seed patriarch is dead but he still wants to rage against him, beat him down until he scars manners into his flesh. 

There’s a push from every direction then, a shove of scent and calming energy. Jacob’s gunpowder and John’s lemon and Joseph’s mint swirling around the snarling animal in his chest. Rook clenches his fists at his sides, tries to focus on breathing in the attempts at bringing him back down instead of the white hot wrath that’s screeching inside him. 

He is in an Omega household. Filled with Omegas who know all too well what an Alpha’s rage can do. He needs to fucking _stop_.

“I’m sorry.” He exhales, shaky, head tipping up slightly to glance around. “I didn’t mean to--I’ve heard and I--”

“We are not ashamed of our past.” Joseph tells him quietly, reaching out to grasp his hand. “It made us the men we are. Foundations, even shaky and cracked, are there for a reason. Though it is...comforting to know that someone is so enraged that they would bring down the wrath of heaven on a threat long gone.”

Rook nods, squeezes Joseph’s hand momentarily before he lets go, looks over to John and Jacob. Jacob seems tense, though he’s relaxing slightly even as Rook locks gazes with him, head tipped like he understands. John is a bit pale, though there’s a curious brightness to his eyes as Rook catches his eyes. 

“Normally Alphas in a fit tend to...unnerve me. Unnerve _us_.” John smiles, tightly, hand a little shaky as he gently brushes against Rook’s fingers. “But I only feel...comforted by yours. Safe. Protected.”

“If I can, I won’t let anyone hurt you all like that again.” It sounds stupid but Rook needs to say it, needs to satisfy the Alpha still howling in his brain. “I know you can all take care of yourselves but I--I’ll help. However you need me to.”

There’s another swell of scent shoved at him and Rook sits back into his chair, tucks his hands in his lap. Right. Calm the fuck down. He might be offering protection but they hardly need it, for one, and for two, he’s still a pissed off Alpha. None of this is helping.

The conversation picks back up, stilted for a bit until it all settles and they’re chatting easily. Rook goes through his second bowl fast, his third a bit slower, finally waving his hands at Joseph’s attempt to give him a fourth. It settled heavier than he thought it might with the bread included and Rook finds himself leaning back in his seat as they all finish and the conversation dwindles slightly. He rubs hands over his full stomach, letting out a small groan when his belt bites into flesh when he moves around, wriggles to try and get comfortable.

Jacob makes a soft noise at his side, eyes flickering between Rook’s stomach and his face. Rook drops his hands to his side, flushing when he knows he’s caught.

“I’m okay! I promise I won’t throw up--I didn’t eat too much. Just enough to be full.”

“Didn’t think you were going to.” Jacob mumbles, finishing off the last piece of his bread.

Joseph and John seem to shrink slightly and Rook bites back a sigh. He knew he shouldn’t have eaten so much-- now they all they he’s some gluttonous Alpha who eats until he’s sick.

His hands itch to grab the half empty pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, probably a bit squashed from Judge’s eager greeting but hopefully in one piece. Rook doesn’t smoke often, usually just while he’s drinking or when he’s winding down after a particularly stressful day, but he wants one right now. Between the good food and the great company and the inner fight to keep his shithead Alpha instincts in check, he needs the inhale and exhale to quiet his mind.

Eden’s Gate doesn’t permit drinking, he highly doubts they’re okay with him lighting up.

Jacob catches his eye as they start clearing the table off, handing off a bowl to John as he tips his head towards Judge, voice purposefully casual.

“Hey, you mind taking him out?”

“Absolutely.” Rook all but jumps from his chair, mouthing a quick “thank you” at Jacob’s knowing grin. “Out the back here?”

He slaps his thigh when Jacob nods, whistling to drag Judge’s head up and the dog is at his side in a second, tail wagging so hard he bumps into Rook’s leg at random intervals. He strides out the back, walking a bit of a distance away with Judge rummaging around the grounds in front of him, before looking over his shoulder to make sure he’s out of sight.

The first drag is always the best, relaxing his shoulders, burning ash on his tongue but ease in his soul as he blows it out. Judge sniffs the air for a second before sneezing, wandering just a bit further away as Rook winces and calls an apology after him. The conversation at dinner is still heavy on his mind and Rook fishes in his pocket for his phone, scrolling through his contacts and hesitating for only a moment before pressing the call button.

It takes a few rings, Rook smoking along idly, before there’s a click in his ear.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, nice, King. You know, I’m your only fucking brother.”

“Yeah, only cause you were such a shit kid mom didn’t wanna risk a third.” King’s deep laugh softens the words, turning insult into joke in an instant. “What’cha up to?”

“Still just doling out justice. You crash any planes lately?”

“Hey, how bout you go fuck yourself, jarhead. Least they let me fly the damn things.”

They laugh along for a moment, shared amusement, and Rook glances back at the house once more. It’s probably the mix of good food and exhaustion making him feel a bit...adrift. His instincts flaring up and making him confused. Not to mention whatever the hell that intervention was when his friends collectively lost their minds.

That’s what King is for. Balance. An outside source of advice.

“I have...a question for you.”

“Alright.” King loses all pretense of joking around, rough voice sombering in an instant. “What’s going on?”

“I’m at an Omegas house right now. A couple Omegas, actually, three brothers. And I had a little...incident where I didn’t exactly keep my aggressive ass in check as well as I should have. I didn’t hurt them or anything!” Rook hurries to explain when King makes a low huff over the line. “Jesus, King, really? You really think I’d do that?”

“Alphas do stupid shit over Omegas. Three at once is a lot on the head. And I know you’re running yourself ragged down there. Don’t think you’d hurt them but...scare’em, yeah. Accidentally but still.”

“Well, I think I might’ve.” Rook sighs, drags heavy, the cherry flaring bright in the darkness of fallen night. “How do I fix it? I don’t wanna have them think of me as a powder keg.”

King hums for a moment, thinking, and Rook smokes along as he waits. He watches Judge pop in and out of the bushes, seemingly checking to make sure he’s still there. Rook doesn’t have long before someone’s gonna get suspicious so he’s gotta make this quick.

Luckily, King isn’t known for dragging stuff out.

“Well, which one of ‘em are you fucking?”

“King!” Rook chokes on his inhale, coughing it out, doubling over as it makes his lungs ache and burns his throat. “I’m fucking--I’m _not_! None of ‘em!”

“None of them?” King repeats incredulously. “What the fuck are you doing at their house at nine at night then?”

“They’re friends!” Rook barks, crushing his cigarette under his heel when his throat warns him another pull won’t be a great idea. “We had a late dinner together. Jesus christ, you think I have the _time_ to get knotted up?”

“Hey, I don’t know what the fuck you do in your spare time.” King sighs. “Look, it’s a little harder if you can’t say sorry with a good mouth. Omegas usually need proof an Alpha isn’t going to be a dick to them. Words probably won’t work, you’re gonna have to say sorry with your actions.”

“I just said I wasn’t fucking them--” Rook grits when King interrupts.

He can practically picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Not like _that_ , you little shit. I meant show them you’re not a risk. Omegas like to take care, like to pamper Alphas. Let them do it. Whatever they wanna do. Just kinda go with the flow. It’ll show them you can bend, that you’re not the obstinate little fucker I know you are.”

“I hate you.” Rook tells him, bending to pick up the discarded cigarette and slip it into his pocket just as the back door cracks open.

John catches sight of the phone to his ear when he turns, motioning to himself as if asking if Rook wants him to go. Rook shakes his head, mutters a quick “hang on” to King, before he pulls the phone down and presses it against his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Shower? Jacob grabbed a change of clothes for you already.”

Rook thinks about King’s words, about his advice, and nods. John clearly wants him to take one, best that he comply. Especially given how John had lost color when Rook lost his temper. 

“Sounds good. Give me two shakes.”

He lifts the phone back to his ear when John nods and retreats back inside, only to scowl at the rolling laughter tumbling down the line.

“A shower? You sure you’re not fucking at least one of them?”

“They’re not interested.” Rook snaps. 

“I dunno,” King clicks his tongue, annoying and judging. “Most Omegas I know don’t love Alphas in their private space. And that includes their showers. We get our scent on shit. They must feel some kinda way to be letting you in--and did I hear something about clothes? One of them is giving you clothes to wear?”

“Jacob’s giving me a new set because his dog tackled me into the dirt.” 

“Uh huh.” King sighs. “Rook, are you sure this isn’t just you being oblivious again? Like back in tenth grade when Andrew Mackerly--”

“No!” Rook groans, dragging a hand down his face, cheeks flushing. “No, this is not like that. And _fuck_ you for bringing it up.”

The memory still embarasses him even now. He’d honestly thought Andrew just wanted to be friends, play some video games and run around together since their parents all worked in the hospital together. He hadn’t known the Omega felt any differently until they were watching a movie once and Andrew slid a hand between Rook’s thighs, face tucked into his throat as he whined that he was “so wet right now.”

Rook had jumped up, worried Andrew was going into heat without his parents home, and dialed his dad with shaking hands. Andrew’s parents had rushed home, guiding Rook out the front door and away from Andrew’s red, red face and stuttered explanations. King had _howled_ when Rook had told him about it a few days later, choking out insults about his stupidity in between roaring bouts of laughter.

As it turned out, Andrew wasn’t in heat. Just horny. And apparently not viewing Rook as the friend he thought he did.

“Alright. Well, I don’t believe you, just so you know.” King tells him. “But it’s not like I’m there. Can’t really tell. I say just let’em do what they please with you, let them set the boundaries and stuff for a bit. Give them a little bit of control.”

“Got’cha. I’ll call you in a couple days. Thanks.”

“Mmhmm. Love you, bro, even if you are dumb as a box of hammers.”

“Fuck you. Love you too. Stay safe.”

Rook tucks the phone back into his pocket, whistles for Judge as he trudges back toward the house. King’s words swirl in his head as he steps inside, Judge pushing past him to dive into his water bowl near the fridge. The Seed brothers are all still in the kitchen, cleaning up, the mentioned second crock pot open as Joseph ladles the stew into tupperware. 

They all carefully don’t meet his gaze and Rook wants to groan, wishing he’d never stepped out. People who don’t smoke can smell it a mile away and that’s without the sensitive noses he thinks the Seeds have. 

Now he really doesn’t have a choice, he has to get the smell off of him.

“Shower?” He asks, pointing upwards. “Where is--”

“I’ll show you.” John drops the towel he’d been using to dry the dishes on the counter, hurrying to his side. 

He follows him up the stairs, across the small walkway that leads outside, and through the double doors of his bedroom. It takes some effort not to stop and pause on the threshold, drag in the scents that linger there. It’s definitely John’s room, his scent lingering over everything, strongest on the huge bed that’s covered in fur blankets and soft looking sheets. 

Rook has to shove away the thoughts of John sprawled out in it, arms and legs akimbo as he writhes, hands yanking at those same sheets as Rook actually does apologize with his mouth. 

“Right in here.” John leads him to the en suite, roughly the size of Rook’s kitchen in his house. 

He nearly whines at the sight of a massive shower that takes up half the room--does he count _three_ shower heads? Lord Jesus Almighty. John’s quick grin tells him he didn’t hide it as well as he thought, hands sliding the door open. 

“There’s a claw foot tub in the lower level bathroom.” He tells him with a laugh when Rook actually _does_ whine. 

“Hey, John, how do you feel about visitors?” Rook asks, only half-joking, all his aches and pains cropping up for a moment like his body is desperately clawing at him to find a way into that tub. 

“As I’ve said, you’re always welcome. Anytime.” John turns to face him, a bit closer than they probably should be because Rook’s been creeping ever closer to the shower since they got into the room.

He’s so close he can see the way John’s pupils expand slightly, smell the gentle fruit scent of him, feel the way he’s holding himself back from something, body a bit tense.

“For anything.” He finishes quietly.

Rook feels the flush hit before John’s eyes dip down to glance at it, stepping back and shaking his head. Like he could stop his brain from thinking up what that could mean. 

John’s trying to be nice. John’s probably still trying to pay Rook back for something, though he’s pretty sure he thought they were even. 

Hell, John’s probably just trying to calm him down, offer up what he has in the hopes that Rook won’t go Hulk again like he did at the dinner table.

“I appreciate it.” He murmurs quietly, dipping his head in thanks as John seems to deflate in front of him. 

The distance probably helps, so did the small show of unintentional submission. Fuck, he’s screwed up in a big way if just being near Rook makes him that nervous and tightly wound. 

Shower. Do what John wants him to do. Stop being a fucking knothead for six seconds. 

“I will...leave you to it. Shout if you need anything.” John says finally, with a nod, striding past him without looking back.

Rook closes the door behind him and bangs his forehead against it a few times. He’s not oblivious like King said. He’s not. He couldn’t be a good Sheriff’s Deputy if he was. 

But sometimes he acts really fucking stupid. Hopefully, if he gets very lucky, the Seeds will still want him around after tonight.


	3. An Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys really think I was just going to NOT explore how the Seeds feel about Rook's stupid ass? (Note the rating change, John has a filthy mouth--and mind)

“I don’t think he’s interested.”

“I think he’s fucking stupid.”

John whips the towel from his shoulder, smacking it against Jacob’s shoulder.

“Jacob!”

“Well, it’s true.” His brother huffs, handing off another plate. “We did all this shit. We’ve _been_ doing all this shit. And he still acts like we’re just pals he meets up with every so often for drinks after work.”

“Perhaps we haven’t been...overt enough with our intentions?” Joseph offers, closing the freezer after tucking the last of the containers inside. “He could possibly be worried about taking the first step and offending us?”

“Joseph,” Jacob turns, leans back against the counter as he counts off on his fingers. “John tried to show off his skills in the air. I tried to take him hunting and prove I could provide a good meal for him. You made him a damn feast at that barbecue. We just fed him until he was bursting in our own home. We got our scents all over him after he washed his hands.”

He curls the extended fingers into a fist. 

“I’m pretty sure if all that isn’t proof enough, John’s letting him _shower_ here. I’m giving him clothes. And he’s still not getting it. Seems to me he’s not really into the thought.”

“I’ve smelled his scent flare a couple times.” John says quietly, fiddling with the towel in his hands. “When you two were walking back to the porch and at dinner and again up in my room. Fast but sharp and pretty clearly arousal of some sort.”

“Just because lust lives in him does not mean it has a direction. Or that is has been guided properly.” Joseph sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “He is our Intended. I know this. I have heard the voice from on high. We must simply be more persistent.”

“What do you want us to _do_?” Jacob throws his hands up in frustration, all but growling. “Go up there and cram into the shower with him? Bend over and beg for his knot? Because at this point, I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s going to take.”

“He must come to the realization on his own.” Joseph snaps back. “We cannot force his hand. It must be genuine or it is a _sin_.”

Jacob huffs, stomps off to throw himself into the chair next to Judge’s bed. John stares after him for a moment before following suit, settling on the couch with far less aggression. Joseph trails last, footsteps measured as he pauses next to Jacob’s form, laying a careful hand on his shoulder.

It isn’t immediately shrugged off so he sighs quietly, kneels down next to him.

“Jacob. What’s wrong?”

“Maybe it’s...the fact that it’s three.” Jacob says softly, eyes locked on the fire crackling in the hearth. “Maybe it’s not that. Maybe it’s who the three are. I don’t want to--I _want_ him. But if you two have a better shot without me--”

“Jacob.” John breathes, flying from his seat to kneel at Jacob’s feet while he goes tense, fists shaking where they press into his thighs. 

Judge trots in, shoves his head under Jacob’s elbow with a whine, one fist relaxing to bury into the thick fur at his nape. It does nothing for the tension in his shoulders but Jacob’s breathing is a bit slower, not the agitated huffing it had been. John rests a forearm over one knee, propping his chin on it as Joseph coos and strokes Jacob’s already neat hair. 

“Absolutely not. I’ve said--we are _all_ destined to share him. This is not something that any of us can choose. It is all or it is not. And it’s not as though Rook detests you.” He laughs, a little too tight, like he’s forcing it. “He went willingly with you into the forest, did he not? Let you huddle close. _Protected_ you.”

“Maybe he was just being a good Alpha.”

“He was being good for _you_.” Joseph corrects. “I don’t hear rumors of Deputy Rook going hunting with whoever asks. He _chose_ to accompany you.”

Jacob sighs, sinking down into the chair as he scrubs his hands up and down his face. John hums at him, trying to gently push his scent as a way to comfort. He’s unpracticed in genuine comfort, more used to using his status to manipulate and claw his way to the top. But there is no competition here.

Well, there is slight competition. Joseph had said they were all destined to share and that is fine, that is all well and good.

But he never said there was a particular order they all had to go in and John always did like being first. 

“I still think he’s fucking stupid.” Jacob mutters from under his hands as John and Joseph both laugh.

“He is...oblivious, certainly. If it’s truly him not noticing and no avoidance of it.”

“Maybe we should try a little harder?” John waves a hand when Joseph frowns at him. “Not force his hand or anything drastic! But maybe he doesn't have a lot of experience with how Omegas court Alphas? He runs around with Boshaw and Drubman, neither of which are good examples of literally anything.”

He scowls, thinking about Rook’s effusive praise and the deep timbre of the laughter he could hear from the other end of the phone call he’d interrupted.

“And I’m willing to put money on perfect _King_ being an Alpha as well. So he didn’t even grow up with any examples.”

“Provided that we do not…” Joseph pauses, searching for the word, “ _seduce_ him into our beds, I think it would be acceptable. If we merely double our efforts in proving to him that we are his destiny, we are the ones to complete his soul, I hardly see how that would be against God’s wishes in this endeavor.”

“I don’t think I’ve seduced a single fucking Alpha in my life.” Jacob tells him.

John snorts, waving a hand. “Oh, I have. It’s laughably easy. I’ll teach you how.”

“Yeah.” Jacob draws the word out, squinting at him. “Hard pass. I’ll figure it out. Pretty sure me showing off my throat and whining at him is going to make him think I finally snapped in the head.”

“I don’t whine at him or show my throat off.” John bounces his fist off Jacob’s knee with a scowl, looking over at Joseph. “...Do I?”

“It is...in your own way. Expected.” Joseph says gently as Jacob starts to chuckle. “You are set in the ways you were forced to learn. It is not a detriment, brother.”

John huffs at them, twists until his back is braced against Jacob’s leg. 

“He has a big knot. I want it. Sue me if my unconscious tries to tell him that.”

Joseph chokes somewhere behind him and John is glad he’s not currently facing them, he can only imagine the look on his face.

“ _John_!”

“Not all about a knot, though. S’about knowing how to use it right.” Jacob nudges him with his knee, something wicked in his voice. “You think he does?”

“ _Yes_ ,” John breathes, body going loose and hot just _thinking_ about it. “Can you picture it? He’s probably one of those Alphas that doesn’t want to stop after he’s knotted inside, all rolling hips and gentle bites at the back of your neck. Scenting you up inside and out.”

Judge huffs at them, sneezing like the overwhelming pheromones in the air are agitating his nose, wandering off back into the kitchen now that Jacob’s calmed down. 

Jacob sucks at his teeth.

“I think I wanna ride him. Not sure how I feel about him being on top of me just yet. But he’s strong, powerful, he could take it.”

“He could probably work you up and down his cock like a fleshlight.” John snickers when Jacob groans, twisting to glance over his shoulder. 

Jacob’s got his eyes closed like he’s imagining it, flushed bright in the way all red heads do. Joseph’s cheeks are red too, fire engine red, but he’s scowling at John. Scowling like John just spit in church or something else blasphemous.

“I _literally_ just said we are not to _seduce_ him.” He snaps. “You are playing a game with the fires of Lust, brother, and I advise you take care not to be burned.”

John shrugs, testing the limits, seeing the way Joseph is swallowing thickly and shifting in place. His scent is almost overpowering, even over Jacob’s, all spearmint sharp and cedarwood musk, more so than it usually is. 

“How about you then? How do you want him? On top of you, probably.”

Jacob mutters out an amused “missionary” as John nods along and Joseph looks like he wants to throttle them both. 

“Think about it though.” John twists back around, staring at the staircase Rook disappeared up as he stretches his arms out in front of him. “He’s _big_. He’ll probably press you down into the bed, pin you there, until all you can _think_ or see is him. Split you open until you think it’s too much, you can’t take it. But he’ll be so _sweet_ about it, whispering how good you are, how tight and slick, how well you take him inside. Like you’re _made_ for each other.”

“Enough.” Joseph orders but his voice shakes, scent warming between them as John glances back and sees him swaying gently in place.

“He’s powerful, you knew that when we first met him. God told you so. Powerful enough to service all three of us, keep us content and well-bred.” John lets his head loll backwards onto Jacob’s knee, staring up at the ceiling as Jacob bounces it ever so slightly under his weight. “One at a time might not be enough.”

He sighs, long suffering and put upon. “I’ll make the sacrifice if I have to, spare his cock to sit on that perfect jaw and let him lick me out.”

Jacob starts laughing first. Rolling and rich, just like the thick gunpowder and spring water scent of him. Then John and finally Joseph, giggling like teenagers with a crush on a football player. The air is warm, heated by the fire and his words, and they all probably feel a bit drunk on the pheromones in the room at this point. 

None of them notice Rook until he’s on the landing, barefoot and staring, arms crossed over his chest as he leans into the railing. There’s a soft smile playing about his mouth, eyes achingly gentle as he roves them over the sight they must make.

“Care to share the joke?”


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna thank my amazing beta who not only shaped my crap writing into something acceptable for you to read (Beta note: it was practically perfect when I started reading it) but she's here posting these next few chapters for you while I'm on vacation!!! Isn't she just amazing?!?!?!

Rook doesn’t wind up staying the night. He doesn’t think he could trust himself to, despite all of the Seeds sharing sour looks when he rose from the couch and jingled his car keys in his palm. Coming down from the shower had been...an experience. He’s not sure what got all of them so riled, their scents a mixture in his nose, all blurring together with the shared undertone of arousal. 

Thank god Jacob’s pants fit as loosely as Rook thought they might, bunched just right at his hips so the way his cock immediately thickened beneath them wasn’t visible. 

Joseph had casually opened the window in the kitchen, allowing the scents to slowly dissipate, but it had still made Rook a bit loopy. Especially once he was sunk into the couch, one foot propped on the table as they chatted about everything and anything. 

At one point he’d nearly purred when John’s fingers had danced at the gaping collar of his shirt, brushing against the skin beneath.

_”You should get a tattoo. Right here. I know how to do it, I could if you wanted."_

_“What would I get?” Rook had mumbled, rolling his head over to meet John’s playful gaze._

_“A chess piece.” Jacob offered from his place over by the fireplace._

_“Too predictable.” John’s nose had scrunched up in the most adorable way. “No, I think...a crown.”_

_“Like Joseph? Isn’t that rude--to copy someone’s ink?”_

_“I’d be honored to share something with you.” Joseph had told him, fingers gentle on the back of his hand._

Rook shakes away the memory, refocuses on the road. He’s only about fifteen minutes from Nick’s house now, having called as he was leaving John’s place and receiving an enthusiastic “come on over, help me drink this beer!” in return. He glances at the clock, thinks about the time difference, and picks up his phone from the passenger seat he’d thrown it into. Midnight here means around 11 back home, right around the time his dad is usually getting off on Wednesdays--last he checked, at least. 

It barely rings once before his dad answers, voice warm and welcoming.

“Hey, honey, what are you up to?”

“Hey, Dad. I’m just heading over to a friend’s for a couple drinks.”

“Watch the road.” His dad murmurs, Rook compliantly flashing his eyes around the edges of the road. 

On the way between Nick’s and the Seeds, it’s a two lane with land stretching wide on either side. He’d be able to see anything coming at him and he’s not speeding, just cruising along at the speed limit. 

“I am. I am. Hey...uh...dad? How do you know if an Omega is...interested in you?”

“Still don’t pick up on that kinda stuff, huh?” His dad laughs and Rook flushes despite his own grin.

No one in his family will ever let him live down his oblivious teenage ass. Good to know some things didn’t change with time and distance. 

“Omegas are wily and confusing creatures.” Rook tells him seriously.

“They’re really not. They’re people--now _those_ are some confusing creatures.” His dad sighs. “You think you’ve got an Omega courting you?”

“Hm? No, no, I meant like...how do you know if they’re _receptive_ to being courted themselves.”

“Well, that’s a little easier. Pretty sure an Omega would have to knock you over the head before you figured it out the other way ‘round.”

“Thanks.” Rook complains as he turns off past the Rye and Sons sign. “You’re so supportive.”

“You want me to call your mother and let her talk to you about it?”

Rook shudders, thinking about his mother’s lecture on sex when he was old enough to get it. She’d encouraged questions, gone into depth about _everything_. And Rook had asked exactly one question after all of it--”can I please go now?”

“Oh my god, no.”

“Right.” His dad laughs, and Rook can’t help but laugh along. “So...hm...how to tell if an Omega is susceptible. Well, I’d say scent’s a dead giveaway. If they smell like they want it, you can try a little flirting. But don’t go by scent alone. Scent isn’t _con_ sent.”

“No means no.” Rook parrots back at him.

“Exactly. Omegas are pretty tactile by nature, so I’d say watch for any...abundance of that.”

“Abundance in which way?”

“Leaning into your side, sitting too close, arms around you--things like that. Anything that seems like touching when touching isn’t necessary.”

Rook thinks back with a frown on the gentle ways the Seeds touch him, brushing against his hands and never putting more than palms against him at any given time. The only time he can recall anything more than that was Joseph's arm through his at the barbecue and that was to keep them from being separated in the crowd. 

Damn. That’s off the list then.

“Okay, what else?”

“Conversation, mostly little verbal hints. Talking about stuff that isn’t fit for mixed company. Heats and the like.”

Well, that’s off the list too. Rook’s never heard a single one of the Seed brothers even mention a heat.

“Anything else?”

“It’s...difficult.” His dad sighs, the low chatter of his radio in the background when he falls silent for a moment. “See, normally the advice would be to look for the little tips of the head, showing of the throat, and listen for the whine in their voices. That little Omega subtone. But you’re a Deputy and, unless whatever Omega you’re going after is a Deputy too, they’re more inclined to do that sort of stuff to people in positions of power like you are.”

There’s another pause and then-- “Rook Rhys. Tell me you aren’t going after a coworker.”

“No, no, not at all.” Rook laughs as he slows to a stop in front of the hangar, putting the car into park and relaxing back into the seat. “I know better, dad.”

“Good.” His dad breathes out a sigh of relief that Rook feels is, really, more than is warranted. “That’s about all I got then, sweetheart. If I was around, maybe it’d be easier for me to lend an eye to the situation? But I’m not so I can’t really give you a solid yes or no on interest levels here.”

“S’okay.” Rook climbs out of the car, fighting to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Think I might just be seeing things that aren’t there.”

“Getting close to a rut?”

Rook squints, tries to count back, rolls his eyes when the dates match up.

“Shit. Yeah, about two weeks out.”

“That’ll certainly do it. I wondered why you were calling and asking this late. Sorry to say it, son, but you might just have to _ask_. No better way to know for sure than from the horse’s mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try that.” Rook scrubs a hand over his face. 

He absolutely will not. He’s not even sure if Eden’s Gate allows fucking outside of marriage. Which could be why the Seeds are so contained around him, shying away almost. Maybe they don’t want to give any indication they’re interested in anything more than friendship only to have to awkwardly turn him down when he propositions one of them.

He doesn’t even know _who_ he’d proposition. He likes Jacob’s quick wit and John’s playfulness and Joseph’s easygoing presence. They’re all stupidly handsome in their own ways too, so going off sheer physical attraction won’t work either. 

“Honey?”

“Sorry,” Rook winces when he realizes he’s been contemplating in silence while his dad waited patiently on the other end of the line. “It’s been...a really long day.”

“Maybe a few less drinks and a few more hours of sleep tonight?”

“Yeah, I will.” Rook childishly crosses his fingers down by his side as he follows the walkway from the hangar to the house. “I’m here, dad, so I’m gonna hop off. I’ll talk to you later? Tell mom I said hi.”

“I will. Call me if you need anything else, sugar. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Rook murmurs just as the door swings open, Nick already flushed and probably buzzed off his ass as he leans one forearm into the jamb, grinning lecherously at him.

He hangs up right as Nick gestures at him with the bottle he’s holding.

“Oh, love you too, huh? Which Seed was on the other end of that call, huh? I got money on John.”

“It was my _dad_.” Rook tells him with a snort, pushing past to stride into the living room, waving to Kim when her head pokes out of the kitchen. “Heya! Sorry for couch crashing so late.”

“You’re always welcome.” She tells him, thumbing at Nick as she rounds into the hall. “At least I don’t have to deal with his drunken ass by myself now.”

“Hey, you married this drunken ass!” Nick protests as he shuts the door with a thud, nearly tipping over when he turns too fast.

Kim shares a roll of her eyes with Rook, looking him up and down for a second. Probably taking in the way Rook can’t really pull his eyes away from her stomach for too long and how he’s rubbing his hands against his borrowed jeans. She sighs, a smile pulling her mouth wide. 

“Go ahead, you weirdo Alpha.”

Rook immediately drops to his knees, hands spread wide but gentle on either side of her belly, forehead pressed to the curve. He coos a quiet “hey there, pretty girl”, feeling the shift and thump of a kick inside at one of his palms.

Nick steps up behind him, kicks at his foot without any pressure behind it. 

“It’s a pretty _boy_! I done told both of you.”

“Yeah, except we have functioning eyes and brains. It’s a _girl_ , even Rook said so and he’s a medic.”

“Medic ain’t no doctor.” Nick huffs, Rook laughing as he rubs his cheek against Kim’s stomach. 

Thank god Nick doesn’t take offense to this. Rook’s always loved kids, always been better around pregnant Omegas than most other Alphas. Something inside him chuffs in happiness, primally satisfied at a bit of family far from home whenever he’s around the Ryes. He usually leaves their household with Kim wearing his and Nick’s scents like a jacket, mixing in with her own wildflower scent and the powdery sharp scent of an Alpha child. 

Rook feels a little awkward when Nick presses in closer behind him, leaning over his head to kiss Kim and shoving Rook’s nose against her stomach a bit closer than he’d wanted to be.

“I swear to god, Nick Rye, if you pop wood against the back of my head…”

They break apart, both laughing, and Rook takes the chance to scamper out from in between them. He wanders into the kitchen as they kiss once more, helping himself to the slowly depleting line of beer in the fridge. Nick never gets anything past buzzed really, Rook either at this point, neither of them willing to get too drunk around an Omega--especially one as fierce as Kim, who’s drug them both back inside by their ears for trying to go mess around in the garage once the alcohol settled into their blood. 

He won’t have more than one or two, not even enough to put a dent in his sobriety, but enough to unwind. He certainly needs it.

Rook makes his way back into the front room, thankful to see clothes are all still in place, if a bit mussed. He’s gone to grab a beer before only to come back to an eyeful, laughing as he sped out the front door and crashed on the couch in the hangar instead. Nick and Kim are cuddled together on one end of the sofa, Kim lifting her feet to let him slide onto the opposite end, placing them neatly in his lap once he taps at her ankle.

“So, I hear someone had dinner with the Seed boys tonight.” She teases, Rook groaning as he pops the top off his beer and tosses it onto the side table.

“For the love of--yes. We had dinner. Yes, it was nice. No, we didn’t have some big orgy in the front room afterwards. We were all perfect gentlemen.”

“Bet they’re pissed about that.” Kim’s eyes twinkle as Rook throws his head back with another groan. 

“Not you too! You were supposed to be my ally!”

“I’ve got functioning eyes. Everybody from here to Missoula can see those boys are chasing after you like a hound dog on a scent trail.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, they are not.” Rook tells her with a tip of the bottle, drinking deeply before he rolls it between his palms. “Especially not after tonight. I kinda...lost my temper a little. Think I might’ve scared them.”

“What’d you do?” Nick asks, face a mask of shock. “You’re one of the nicest Alphas I ever met. I don’t think I ever seen you get snappy with someone who ain’t deserve it.”

“You know how the rumors going around is their old man was a piece of shit?” Rook waits until they both nod. “Well, they’re not rumors. And I was thinking about it and I got worked up into a fit. Which is just about the last thing they need; a pissed off Alpha in their house. I’m surprised they didn’t boot me out the front door.”

“Maybe they knew you weren’t mad at them. Hell, they might’ve even taken it as a compliment.”

Rooks thinks back to Joseph’s quiet words. There wasn’t affection in them, just gratitude. A compliment, maybe, but not one they were looking or asking for. 

“I dunno.” He murmurs, pulling deeply from the bottle once more. “They didn’t immediately make me leave so it’s probably not too bad but...still. I shouldn’t have done it. Wasn’t my place.”

“You’ve got a big heart, Rook.” Kim knocks her feet into his stomach gently. “You’re a sweetheart under all those pigheaded Alpha tendencies. Nobody who knows you would be surprised if you jumped up in their defense, even against the past. I can probably swear to you that they’re not mad.”

“They did give you clothes.” Nick points out, sniffing the air for a moment. “Those are...Jacob’s, right? Don’t think he’d be doing that if he was ticked off at ya.”

“Maybe.” Rook says, forcing a grin when he grabs for Kim’s foot and presses his fingers into the underside. “I don’t wanna really talk about it anymore. Change of subject?”

“If you keep doing that I’m not gonna be able to talk about any subject.” Kim groans softly, unstacking her feet as Rook switches his grip, rubbing tight circles against her arches. “Oh hell, you are a goddamn miracle worker. How come I couldn’t have mated you instead?”

“Because the amount of Viagra I’d have to take would probably kill me.” Rook tells her as they all laugh. 

Nick’s caught him around the waist a couple times, pulled him in close and muttered in his ear about other Alphas that tried to chat up Kim at the Spread Eagle or other places. Rook usually winds up holding him back, reigning in his more possessive tendencies. He’d asked once, after Kim had stolen his jacket at the Testy Festy and was wandering around smelling a whole lot like Rook and a whole little like Nick, why he never got an attitude with him about it.

Rook knows he’s a touchy Alpha. Knows he has a tendency to hug and stand a little too close, a little too ready to throw an arm around some shoulders or a waist if someone needs it. A lot of Alphas don’t like it, particularly around their mates, and a lot of Omegas like it a little too much, maybe used to the physically stunted forms of affection most Alphas have been taught to show.

_”You ain’t...like I don’t wanna go presumin’ or nothing, but I’m pretty sure you’d be more trying to get into my pants than Kim’s.”_

_“Fair point,” Rook had wriggled his eyebrows at Nick as they’d both laughed, watching Kim send the other Alpha packing with their tail between their legs. “So how ‘bout it, Nick? Fancy a walk on the other side?”_

He vaguely remembers Kim wolf whistling when Nick had smashed their mouths together, tasting like beer and the bitter bite of tequila underneath when he shoved his tongue in deep. He also vaguely recalls a few strange hands shoving dollars into his pants as he tried to keep Nick from taking off his clothes, laughing so hard his cheeks were sore the next day.

It seems vaguely unfair, to Rook, that he can say smooth shit like that to other Alphas and yet turns into a stuttering and blushing mess around the Omegas he’s attracted to.

But life was unfair to him at all times. Which was why, when he’d finally peeled Nick off him and kept him at bay with stiff arms, he’d looked over only to see the Seeds across the way. All of them watching with something akin to disgust in their faces.

The invites to come to church and requests for help at John’s house had come in not long after that. All of them were probably scrambling to try and save his soul after that little debacle.

The early darkness melts to the dead of night as they all chat, Rook only moving once or twice from the couch to grab more beers or stop into the bathroom before tucking himself back under Kim’s legs. His eyes get heavy before he knows it, half-lidded just like Nick’s. 

Between one blink and the next, his brain goes offline. Shutting down for the night, throwing in the towel after the physical and emotional exhaustion of the day. Rook falls asleep surrounded by friends, by the scent of family, and he dreams of the Seed brothers.

All of them. Sometimes individually, sometimes together, too many hands on his body as they all vie for his attention. Whine at him, beg for his teeth and his knot, with their voices and their bodies. 

There is a sense of _rightness_ that doesn’t wear off by the time Rook’s blinking open bleary eyes, immediately slamming them closed at the ray of light that seems positioned just right to punch him in the face through the curtains. He feels warm and comfortable, unwilling to move with the lazy affection of his dreams still fading from his mind, simply tipping his body away from the sunlight, against the arm of the couch.

The weight against his side follows him with a grunt, Rook peeling his eyes open once more to glance down at where Nick’s head is now braced against his hip. They both must’ve fallen asleep on the couch then, Nick shifting around towards a source of heat whenever Kim left them. Rook stretches best he can, fighting back a yawn when footsteps plod towards them.

“Time is it?” He murmurs when Kim rounds the corner with a small smile, shoulder braced against the wall. 

“Around ten. I figured you didn’t have to work since you came in so late. You hungry yet?”

“Famished.” Rook answers honestly, stomach aching slightly as he carefully maneuvers out from under Nick.

He groans, rolling over to face the back of the couch, seemingly not willing to wake up yet. Rook and Kim share a smile before she nods her head towards the kitchen. 

“I’ll put a pot of coffee on. Should get him up and moving.”

Rook nods, making a quick stop at the bathroom before he pads to the kitchen, drying his hands on his jeans as he goes. Kim’s half inside the fridge when he gets there, Rook gently bumping a thigh into her butt as he passes.

“Get outta there. Give me half a cup and I’ll make something for everyone. Don’t want you on your feet too much.”

“Far be it from me to complain about not having to cook.” Kim swings the door shut, settling at the small table with hands cupped around a mug of what looks like tea. “I’ll take two eggs over-easy and some bacon.”

“You’ll take whatever I can manage to throw together.” Rook tells her with a grin over his shoulder, pouring himself a full cup of coffee before the pot’s even done brewing. “This isn’t a restaurant. The menu consists of ‘Rook is hungover, please be nice to him’ and that’s about it.”

“Rook only had three beers, Rook had better not be _too_ hungover.” Kim snorts as she takes a sip, fingers tracing around the rim once the cup is back on the table. “So...you talk in your sleep.”

“Oh fuck.” Rook groans, shoulders climbing up around his ears as he slowly turns, coffee cup held in front of him like a shield. “Please tell me I didn’t say anything embarrassing. Like--asking my mommy for a blanket or something stupid like that.”

“Not quite. I didn’t catch all of it because I was not about to sleep on a couch between you two space heaters. But there was a lot of ‘mine, all of you are _mine_ ’ and ‘so good, I’ll be so good for you’.” She grins wickedly, and Rook hides as best he can by tipping the cup to his mouth.

It burns his tongue but that feels right, somehow.

“Few familiar sounding names thrown in there too.”

“So, uh….I might be...attracted to the Seed brothers.” Rook tells her sheepishly, frowning at her arched brow and snorted “you fucking think?”

“Be nice to me,” he whines pathetically, sliding into the chair across from her. “I’m having a lot of emotional struggles right now. Show me support!”

Nick stumbles into the kitchen then, rubbing at his eyes, making a beeline for the coffee pot with his nose tipped in the air.

“Why’s Rook whining like an Omega this time?”

“You’re both terrible and I hate you.” Rook snaps at him, glaring at Kim as she smiles over the rim of her mug. 

Nick hums, filling his cup nearly to overflowing, before he pads over and drapes himself across Rook’s shoulders, chin resting atop his head. The warmth is nice, as is the pressure of another body against his, but Rook still whimpers when Kim shoots him one final grin before she opens her mouth.

“Rook talks in his sleep. A whole lot about the Seeds and how he’s gonna be so good for them.”

“All of ‘em, huh?” Nick yawns, taking a slow sip of his coffee and miraculously not managing to spill it all over Rook. “Well, if there’s any Alpha out there who could tie those three down, probably would be you. Got the temperament for it.”

“No Alpha in this world has three Omegas.”

“Really? A billion or so people around the world and you don’t think there’s _anyone_ out there just like you?” Kim asks as Rook resists the urge to bury his face in his cup. 

“Maybe. Shit, I dunno. Can we please change the subject, for the love of all things holy?”

“Already lovin’ on holy things. You ain’t gonna go joining that church, right?” Nick asks with a nudge, Rook huffing out a growl. 

“Shut up. Go away. I’m leaving, you guys are being terribly rude this morning.” He tips his head back, glares accusingly upwards when Nick glances down at him. “And I let you use me as a pillow last night. The _audacity_ , Mr. Rye.”

“You like it.”

“Fair point.” Rook tips his cup upright, draining the last of it before he stands. “I am leaving though. I have to stop by the Seeds place and grab my uniform.”

He glares at the way Kim and Nick’s brows both climb high, almost in unison.

“Because they are nice people and offered to wash it. After their dog got it dirty.”

“You promised you’d make me breakfast.” Kim whines, pushing her scent at him just a bit.

Curiously, it doesn’t do what it usually does. Rook doesn’t feel any compulsion to stay, un-manipulated by the tactic when a week before he would’ve been sighing and pulling ingredients from the fridge. Maybe it’s because her scent seems...dulled, almost.

Not as sharp as any of Seeds scents, still heavy in his nose despite the time and distance. 

Probably due to him wearing Jacob’s clothes. Scent sinks in heavy after a while and going by the frequent wash wear on them, these must be particularly favored pieces of clothing.

All the more reason to get them back to him fast. 

“Have your actual Alpha make you breakfast.” He tells her, depositing his cup in the sink and stopping to press a kiss to her head. “I’m heading into Fall’s End later today, got a few errands to run. Catch you guys at the Spread Eagle for dinner?”

They both nod, Nick dragging him in for a one-armed hug, still death-gripping his own coffee in the other hand. Rook stops by the couch, slips on his shoes from where he’d kicked them off at some point, and picks up his keys from the small table near the door, whistling as he leaves.

He pulls his phone out once he’s in his car, thumbing through the contacts as he cranks the air on. It’s going to be an absolute scorcher today. He might just go home and wash his car for an excuse to get wet for a bit. 

He is absolutely not going to wash the squad car. That’s Hudson’s job this month and she purposefully ran her car through about sixteen mud puddles the last time he was on washing duty. 

The phone rings a few times before it’s answered by a short “Go for Jacob.”

“Hey, Jacob, it’s Rook. You still at home by any chance?”

“Yeah. Working on the house a bit today, John’s got some filters that need replaced and I don’t trust him to get them in place and not burn the whole house down.” Jacob snorts. “You stopping by for your clothes?”

“If that’s alright? I’m at the Ryes' right now, should only take about half an hour--twenty minutes if I drive like I normally do.”

There’s something curiously tight in Jacob’s voice when he mutters a quick “Yep. Drive safe.” before abruptly hanging up. Rook pulls the phone from his ear, confused, before he shrugs and tosses it into his passenger seat, guiding his car back onto the road. 

He did say he was busy working. And Jacob doesn’t seem the type to linger on the phone anyhow. Probably just wanted to get off and go back to doing his thing. 

Rook sighs down at the way his cock twitches at the thought of Jacob “getting off”.

“Really? Are we gonna fucking do this today?”

Predictably, his cock doesn’t actually answer him. Because if it did, Rook would probably drive into a tree or something. 

As it stands, he makes it back to the Seed ranch with no crashes, parking roughly the same place he did yesterday. He looks around before cautiously climbing out, waving a hand at the few Eden’s Gate members over by the hangar, blueprints laid out in front of them.

He thinks he remembers John mentioning something about expanding the ranch. Adding a room or something like that. Like it’s not absolutely massive as is.

Judge doesn’t tackle him again as Rook climbs the few steps to the front door, rapping on it with his knuckles. Probably wherever Jacob is, which isn’t currently in Rook’s line of sight. There’s a called “it’s open!” from within that has him pushing the door inwards, stepping around and closing it before waving at where Joseph and John are at the kitchen counter. The ingredients for sandwiches are spread out in front of them and Rook firmly ignores the way his stomach growls at the sight. 

“Hey. Long time no see. I came back to grab my uniform?”

He didn’t really expect all the Seeds to be home, usually split in some ways doing their different things during the day. It’s rare to run into all of them at once, people had told him when he’d first met them, but it seems like Rook does it more often than not. 

“Rook.” Joseph greets warmly, waving him over. “It’s good to see you. You arrived safely at home, then?”

“Nah, just wound up staying at the Ryes' last night. Got there safe, though.”

Joseph’s face flashes for a second, the corners of his mouth turning down, eyes going tight and sharp, but it’s there and gone in a second. So fast Rook wouldn’t have seen it if he hadn’t been looking at him. 

“Ah. Well, I am glad the journey was not quite as long as we thought it would be then. Safer, in some ways.”

“It also explains why you smell like you do.” John grits out from behind Joseph’s shoulder. “Do they not have a spare bed? Did they simply offer you their own in lieu of it?”

Rook frowns, interrupted from responding by the sound of the back door opening, Judge tumbling through to trot over for a few pets as Jacob follows behind. He sniffs the air, grimaces.

“What the hell is that smell?”

“Rook stayed over at the Ryes' house last night. It’s _him_.” John says snidely, turning away to toss the knife he’d been holding into the sink with a clatter. “I’ll buy you new clothes. Good luck getting the scent out of those.”

Jacob scowls, Joseph’s eyes bouncing between the three of them. Rook half expects him to step in, mediate like he usually does, but there’s only silence. He opens his mouth a few times, hands held in front of him helplessly.

“Did I do something wrong? I fell asleep on the couch with them and Kim left me and Nick to sleep there. I mean--I can go wash the clothes if you want? I’ll take them to a dry cleaner if that’ll help?”

The burnt smell of agitation is so strong even Rook is breathing through his mouth to avoid it as opposed to taking the surreptitious inhales of the Seed’s scents like he usually does. John’s got his hands braced on the edge of the counter, staring resolutely out the window, and Jacob’s still as a statue, arms locked across his chest. The only one who looks even slightly normal is Joseph, but he certainly doesn’t _smell_ normal.

He’s hiding his scent, Rook realizes with a start. Pulling it in as opposed to pushing it outwards, containing it within himself. He’s so used to always smelling Joseph, always having the scent in his nose when they’re around one another, that the absence is almost a tangible hole within him.

Rook starts purring without thinking about it, the Alpha inside scrambling to try and settle down three extremely agitated Omegas. It rumbles up from his stomach, low like thunder in the distance, and three sets of eyes snap to him. 

His voice shakes with it even, a lower timbre than he usually speaks in. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did but I know you’re all upset. And I’m sorry.”

There’s a collective exhale from the three, John’s a little high like he’s whining unconsciously. Joseph offers him a small smile, stepping just a bit closer, scent still held tight inside him. 

“It is fine. You have no apologies to make. Let me fetch your uniform.”

Rook almost reaches out when he brushes past, fingers curling away at the last second at the sight of how tense his shoulders are. He watches him go deeper into the house before twisting around to stare at the two remaining Omegas.

“I don’t know...what I’ve done to upset you.” He says slowly, taking a cautious step forward and another when neither of them back up. “But I am sorry. And I can try and--make it up? You just have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“This is our home. And you just...walked in the front door. Smelling like another Omega.” John grits out, a muscle in his jaw ticking. 

Oh God.

Oh _fuck_.

Rook should have known better. He knows the Seeds didn’t grow up with a lot to call their own. They’re probably fiercely protective of what they have now. And Rook just waltzed in, spreading around the scent of others when it was not invited, not expected.

His mom made them strip off in the mudroom after sports, complaining the overload of smells was hell on her nose. He can’t even _imagine_ how hard it must be on the Seeds, to have a place that smells only of them and to have Rook shatter that comfort so carelessly.

He scrambles, so fast Judge jumps away from him and scampers over to his bed. He rips his shirt over his head, kicking off his shoes even as he tears at the closure of his jeans. Taking them off nearly trips him and Rook thinks, somewhat viciously, he’d deserve to hit the ground right about now. 

“I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t even think about it. Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” Rook gathers up the clothes in his hands, walking quickly to the front door and pitching them out onto the front porch before shutting the door on the scents. “Is that better? Shit, it’s probably on my skin now. I just need my uniform and I’ll get out of here.”

John and Jacob don’t respond, too busy staring almost slack-jawed at him. Rook covers himself despite still having boxers on, face flushing.

Alright, maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Got rid of one problem but he just took his fucking clothes off in their house.

He’s batting a thousand today. And, because God is cruel, his cock is taking interest in the Seed brother’s unbroken staring. He presses down as subtly as he can, hissing silent warnings that he’ll chop the fucking thing off if it makes things worse for him. 

“What...is going on in here?” Joseph’s scent isn’t contained anymore, coiling around Rook’s brain--and the base of his cock, god _damnit_ \--as he emerges with Rook’s uniform in his hands. 

“I shouldn’t have brought other scents in here without asking. I’m so sorry.” Rook turns best he can, still holding his hands in front of his hips. “I took the clothes off and put them on the porch.”

“I...see.” Joseph says slowly, eyes skipping up and down his frame for a moment before he steps closer and offers up Rook’s uniform with slightly trembling hands. “Here, then.”

There’s a soft growl from behind him, Jacob’s by the sound of it, and Rook takes a step away before he starts putting clothes back on. 

Right. Don’t get near the Omega little brother while half-naked. 

He dresses quickly, pulling on his clothes so fast it almost unbalances him again, but the tension in the room eases once he’s fully clothed once more. Rook smooths his hands down his chest, hissing at the stupid Alpha purring in his chest at the fact that they smell like all the Seeds at once. 

Everything in the house does. Except where he’s been standing because he was an idiot and took another Omega’s scent into their home. 

“Right, so--thank you. And I will go and get out of your hair now.” Rook hooks a thumb at the door, wincing slightly when he only receives slightly dazed nods in return.

He doesn’t even bother putting his shoes on, just scoops them up and darts out the front door. They get tossed into the passenger seat as Rook hops behind the wheel and viciously stabs his key into the ignition, nearly jamming his ankle with how hard he stomps on the pedal. It’s not until he’s a good distance down the road that he pulls over, turns off the ignition and bangs head and hands against the steering wheel.

“God _fucking_ damnit!” 

Rook slings himself back in his seat, one hand idly rubbing up and down his chest, taking great lungfuls of the way his scent is mixing with the leftovers on the clothing.

Better enjoy it while it lasts. Because he’s pretty sure that’s the last fucking time any of the Seeds are going to get close enough to him to leave their scent lingering behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta notes: Momo is gonna be on vacation here for a bit (she never actually told me when she'd be back so it will be a surprise for all of us) and she has ridiculously limited internet where she is. So I'll be here posting her story in her stead, but to keep it stretched out we're gonna go to an every other day posting schedule. I have 3 more chapters after this that I can post and so far she can't get much of anything out to me to add to that but we will see. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the whole story too. ~[Ri](http://RiTheBeta.tumblr.com/)
> 
> PS: I am also texting Momo your comments and delivering her replies.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Beta here. Just wanted to let you guys know that while on vacation with practically no internet whatsoever unless she drives to Walmart for better cell service, Momo has gotten TWO more chapters to me. I'm still working on betaing them and let me tell you talking through edits in text messages is not the easiest thing I've ever done. Anyway, this chapter was already ready for you when she left so enjoy it, okay?
> 
> ~[Ri](http://rithebeta.tumblr.com)

Rook winds up washing his car as soon as he gets home--partly because the noontime heat is killer and partly because he wants all the scents off his body as fast as he can. It stings in a way he didn’t expect when he finishes scrubbing off the hood and lifts a forearm to his nose, sniffing and smelling only himself and the soap he’s been using.

He didn’t expect the Seeds scents to linger just off of his uniform--now carefully put up in his closet--but it still feels...wrong. After having them in his nose for such a long time last night, it doesn’t feel right to not be able to smell them at all. 

He tools around the house for a while, cleaning a bit, eating a quick lunch that consists entirely of a Gatorade and a couple pop tarts. Grabbing for his keys when boredom starts urging him to do something stupid, like jack off or make up his bed until it’s something an Omega would like to be in, and deciding to go into Fall’s End a little early.

The Spread Eagle is nearly deserted when he gets there, 4 o’clock just barely past, but Mary May is behind the bar and offers him a small smile when he walks through the door.

“Evenin’, Deputy. What can I do for you?”

“I would like a…” He eyes the tabs behind her for a moment. “I would like whatever the bartender would like to give me.”

“Smart choice.” She laughs, turning and pulling him something lightly colored with a small head, sliding it across once she’s done. “First one’s on the house for our boys in green.”

Rook nods his head, slips what he would have paid for it into the tip jar, and settles onto the stool. He’s about halfway through it when a thought occurs, pulling his head around towards where Mary is at the other end of the bar, scrubbing at something probably old and sticky. 

“Hey, Miss Mary...you’re an Omega, right?”

“I am.” She shifts her eyes over, a little guarded, scrubbing just a bit harder. “Not like that nose of yours couldn’t tell you that.”

“Have you ever...been courted before? Properly courted, by an Alpha?”

“Are you propositioning me, Deputy Wylde?” She laughs when he sputters, shaking her head and tossing the rag over her shoulder as she wanders down. “I’m kidding. I know I’m not your type, Omega or no. Tell you what--I’ll answer if you tell me why you need to know.”

“I might be, maybe, possibly, thinking about courting an Omega. But I don’t know how to tell if they would be...receptive to the idea?” Rook takes a sip, rolls it around in his mouth when her eyes narrow at him. “I don’t want to, uh, show attention where it’s not wanted, you know?”

“Well...depends on the Omega in question. Drunk people talk, and I might have heard something or another...but I’d have to know who we were talking about to say yes or no.”

“I feel vaguely like this is entrapment.” Rook tells her with an arched brow, returning her grin when it splits her face wide.

“Now, Deputy, do you really think little ol’ _me_ would ever go fishing for gossip?” She asks, propping her arms on the counter and leaning forwards, pushing her own slightly hoppy Omega scent towards him until he’s burying his nose back in his glass to ward it off.

“No Omega in this town is ever nice to me.” He huffs as she laughs, straightens, runs a hand through her hair.

“From what I hear through the grapevine, couple of Omegas would be willing to be _awful_ nice to you if you gave’em half a chance.”

“Not you too!” He groans.

“Oh?” She braces a hip against the bar, crossing her arms and arching a brow. “I know who _I’ve_ heard about. Who have _you_ heard about?”

“Nobody! I’m not saying nothing until I have a lawyer!” Rook tells her with a pointed finger.

“John Seed’s a lawyer, so I hear. Could give him a call if you wanted.”

Mary May _cackles_ when he feels his face flush, muttering a “please, God, no” at his lap. She reaches across the bar, ruffles his hair a bit like he’s younger and not actually a few years older than her. 

“I won’t keep torturing you, sugar. So--you wanna court an Omega? Or at least see if they’d be interested in it?”

Rook nods along, attention pulled to a focal point. “I’m just curious about how you...let the Alpha know you were okay with them being interested in you. How you hinted that you were open to them pursuing you.”

“I told them.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course, you--you did what now?” Mary rolls her eyes at his stare, shrugging. 

“Omegas aren’t the hapless little things in romance novels, Rook. I’ve had a few Alphas flirt with me and I just told them it was returned. A simple ‘wanna take this upstairs?’ is really all I ever needed.”

Well. Fuck. 

There goes his plan.

None of the Seeds, not a single one, have ever said anything even _remotely_ close to “wanna take this upstairs?” Not even in any doublespeak or innuendo. Not even a _hint_ of it in their voices. 

Some of his disappointment must show on his face because Mary frowns, coos a bit at him as she pets a lock of hair back from his forehead.

“But that’s just me. Other Omegas might be different about it, more coy. Just cause I ain’t got that kinda time doesn’t mean others don’t like to play little games.”

The Seeds don’t like to play games. Rook can already tell. They’re straight-forward, sometimes playful, but never coy. Every single one of them is the type to outright say what they do or don’t want.

And it would seem like he’s firmly in the Do Not Want category. Especially after this morning’s shitshow. 

“Right. Well, that about seals it, then.” Rook tips the glass up, drains it, and stares at the leftover foam a bit longingly. “I thought there were...hints, maybe. A special scent I’d smell or something.”

“You can smell arousal. That’s one hell of a hint.”

“Arousal doesn’t mean interest or consent.” He tells her, scowling and flushing once more at her giggled, “you little boy scout.”

“Sorry, sugar. That’s about all I got for you then. Maybe ask another Omega? I know I ain’t exactly normal.”

Neither are the Seeds, though. Rook was betting on an independent Omega like Mary May to be along their same lines in terms of how they dealt with Alphas. 

Now that hope is gone along with his beer.

“Thanks anyways, Miss Mary. It was a long shot.” He gives the glass back, nodding when she motions for a re-fill. “I’m gonna grab a table, I’m meeting Kim and Nick here in about an hour. Holler if you need something, okay?”

She returns the now full glass with a nod and a grin, watching him wander over to a table tucked in the corner. 

Rook doesn’t get to sit in silence for very long, head pulling away from his phone when the bell over the door rings and he hears a cheerful “Howdy, Miss Mary--Rook! Hey, man!”

“Hey, Sharky.” Rook waves him over, gesturing to Mary who’s already pulling another beer. “Stick him on my tab, okay?”

“You’re a peach.” Sharky tells him, collapsing into a chair and immediately shoving one foot in between Rook’s hip and the edge of his chair, relaxing backwards. “God, I think I pulled something in my leg last night.”

“What did you do?”

Sharky’s eyes glitter and Rook groans, cautiously breathing in. Sharky smells like Sharky, bonfire and gasoline, but there’s a thick headiness under it all. Sweat slick skin and the hot press of bodies together.

Sharky got laid while Rook was passed out on Nick’s couch. 

Life is unfair, and he wants a refund.

“You could’ve taken a shower first.” Mary May tells him when she deposits his beer on the table, nose wrinkled up. “God, you _reek_ of an Alpha. Did they piss on you or something--it’s _so_ strong.”

“Hey, you don’t go pissin’ on people on the first date. S’a process to get to that point.”

“But you fuck’em, apparently.” Mary May rolls her eyes, glancing over at Rook for a moment. “Do me a favor and like...scent him or something? Or I’m gonna have to go searching for my Vicks just to get the smell out of my nose.”

Rook obligingly uncurls his scent a bit, Mary’s shoulders relaxing slightly as she inhales deep. It won’t totally cover Sharky, sex is a hard scent to overpower, but Rook’s always been told he smells good for an Alpha. Kinda like pine trees and the dust of an old book. Comforting, Addie had once told him, half passed out on his shoulder after she and Xander had a few too many at one of the community get-togethers. 

_”Like going back to your parents’ house and sitting in your old bedroom. You smell like home, sugar.”_

Sharky knocks him in the hip once Mary’s walked away, eyes a little too sharp over the rim of his glass.

“Kinda expected you might smell like a little something else. I wasn’t the only one who went home with someone last night.”

“I went to dinner. With friends.” Rook tells him with a slap at his foot. “Stop poking me. I don’t want your scent on me, I’ve already dealt with enough of that today.”

“Uh-oh, story time!”

“There isn’t much of a story.” He sighs. “I stayed over at Kim and Nick’s. Didn’t think about how their scents would linger. Dropped back by the Seeds place this morning and pissed them all off because I didn’t think about how Omegas don’t like other people’s scents in their house.”

Sharky frowns.

“I don’t ever care if you get your smell over everythin’ at my place. And Aunt Addie runs a marina, she has people in and out all day but she ain’t never complained.”

“Yeah, but the Seeds are _different_. I saw how John kinda ushered people out of the house when we were fixing it up, how he kept the windows open. Should’ve picked up on how he doesn’t like any scent but his and his brothers inside.”

Sharky tips his head, considers for a moment, takes another sip.

“You sure they weren’t just in a tizzy because you smelled like another Omega?”

Rook opens his mouth. Closes it. Groans and resists the urge to bang his forehead off the table. 

Of _course_. Of course, that might’ve pissed them off. The Seeds are church leaders, Joseph is a _preacher_. And Rook just rolled up into their house, smelling like another Omega and another Alpha. The same Alpha the Seeds had once seen him swapping spit with at a town festival while the Omega cheered them on. 

After admitting he’d stayed the night at their house.

John’s voice drifts through his head, memory making it even more vicious than it had been when he’d spoken.

_”Did they not have a spare bed? Did they offer you their own in lieu of it?”_

“They think I’m a fucking homewrecker.” Rook all but wails, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Oh god, _that’s_ why they were so pissed off. They must think I slept with Nick and Kim! Who are _mated_ and _expecting!_ Fuck, they probably think I’m the _worst_ kind of Alpha out there.”

No wonder they were looking at him so pointedly when he’d stripped off his clothes like a moron. Probably trying to see if he had any hickies or bites, evidence of his sin left on his skin.

And why none of them even tried to stop him when he ran out the front door. Who in their right mind would let a lustful Alpha like him in their midst, especially when he smelled as strongly as he imagines he did?

“Who’s the worst kinda Alpha?” Rook cracks open one eye at Nick’s questioning tone, watching as he and Kim settle at the table. 

“I am. I went to the Seeds house this morning and set them off royally. One because I brought scents in their home when they didn’t invite it and _two_!” He gestures with both his fingers, all but shoving them in Nick’s face. “I smelled like you and Kim! And I told them I stayed the night with you guys! They probably think I spent the night in a whole other kinda way and God-fearing people don’t approve of that kinda stuff.”

“So just call them and tell them that they’re wrong?” Kim suggests.

“I can’t!” Rook groans, burying his hand in his hands. “You didn’t _see_ them, Kim. They were all _so_ upset with me.”

“Maybe buy ‘em something? That’s what I used to do when I pissed Kim off.”

“Which is why we have a whole shed full of useless shit.” Kim rolls her eyes, gifting Nick a small smile when he leans in with a pout. “It’s not a terrible idea, though. Do something nice for them.”

“Hey, they made you dinner, right? You could do that too?” Sharky suggests with another kick at his side. “I always love when Alphas make me food. Gives me all those warm tingles in my stomach and stuff. Sure fire way to get me on my back, I’ll tell you that.”

“I dunno…” Kim says slowly as Mary wanders over to their table, pad of paper in hand. “I don’t like the idea of an Alpha cooking for me. You guys have way different tastes. What do you think, Mary? Yay or nay on Alphas cooking for you?”

Mary shrugs, idly rolling her pen in circles around the paper.

“Wouldn’t mind if they asked me what I like to eat. I’ve had a few offer to make me breakfast before, the morning after. Don’t think I’d trust to eat whatever they decided to put in front of me, but I wouldn’t say no to it.”

She pauses, arching a brow across the table at Rook.

“Who are you making food for?”

“Not for me, that’s for damn sure.” Kim tells him with a gentle nudge to his ankle to soften the words. “The Seeds. He pissed them off and he wants to apologize.”

Mary sucks in a breath through her teeth. 

“Oh, sugar, I wouldn’t. The Seeds are old fashioned Omegas, church going types. They probably think the Omegas should be the ones doing all the cooking and cleaning. Might just hurt their feelings if you try and turn it on its head.”

“Nobody does that kinda shit anymore though.” Nick argues. “No Omega I know follows those stupid old rules. Hell, Kim starts shouting if I don’t clean up after myself.”

“Because I’m not scrubbing oil out of your clothes every single time!”

Rook sighs when they start bickering amongst themselves, playful and familiar, turning his beer in place as he considers it. Mary makes a good point; the Seeds certainly seem to adhere to a lot of older customs and beliefs--like the no drinking rules and the clear distaste for Rook getting his scent all over Omegas that aren’t his. But he’s eager to do _something_ for them, try and fix his mistake.

Mary’s words from earlier flash across his mind and he bangs a fist into the table with a triumphant sound, dragging all eyes to him.

“I’ll ask them! That way they can just tell me, just like you do, Miss Mary!”

“How the fuck did it take you this long to realize asking people stuff is a good idea?” Sharky asks incredulously. 

“Shut up. I’m not a smart man.” Rook nudges him with his knee, patting around his pockets until he comes up with his phone. “Aha! Now...who to ask…”

“Jacob.” Kim suggests. “Oldest. Head of the family.”

“Naw, bullshit, ask Joseph.” Sharky argues. “Don’t care ‘bout age, _he’s_ the head of that family.”

“John’s the most temperamental, though.” Mary May muses. “He seems the most likely to be upset if his opinion doesn’t get counted in.”

Rook looks up from his phone, a wave of unease settling over him.

“You guys are so fucking unhelpful. I want you to know this.”

“Why don’t you just call one of them?” Mary snaps, whacking at his arm across the table. “Call one and tell them to ask the others. That way you get everyone’s opinion at once.”

“Who do I _call?!_ ”

“John.” Everyone says simultaneously, Rook goggling at them until Kim clarifies.

“He’s always got his phone on him. And you don’t wanna call Jacob when he’s working or Joseph while he’s at church, right? So, yeah. John.”

It’s a good idea. Good plan. Great reasoning.

Except John had seemed the most pissed off out of all of them this morning and Rook’s not even sure he’ll answer.

“Either call them or put your phone away, man. You’re harshing my buzz.”

“You’ve had one beer. You’re so far away from buzzed it’s not even funny.” Rook rolls his eyes at Sharky, pushing back from the table and thumbing at the back door. “Still got a few ashtrays out there?”

Because he’s definitely not doing this without a little bit of false courage. And he doesn’t wanna down enough beers that John can tell he’s been throwing them back. 

Mary May nods before turning her attention to Nick and Kim, effectively dismissing him. 

He smokes his way through one before he actually gets up the courage to call. Waves at a few patrons who wander out to join him. It’s not until Nick shoves his head out the back door and tells him to “get a damn move on, my food’s gonna be ready soon and I want a story with my supper” that Rook actually complies.

After he tosses an empty beer can at Nick’s head because--fucking rude.

There’s a silence after the rings stop, after the click of the call being answered, before John carefully says, “Rook?”

“Hey, yeah, it’s me.” 

No fucking shit. Caller ID has been a thing for years now, Rook.

“Is everything alright?”

“Hm, yeah, no, everything’s fine!” Rook plays with his lighter, contemplates lighting another one before realizing John would probably be able to hear it through the phone. “So, I was thinking--I am really, truly, sorry about everything that happened this morning. About bringing the scents in your home. And about--whatever you thought happened the night before.”

“And what do you think that I think happened the night before?” John asks carefully, voice guarded.

Shit. He shouldn't have even brought it up, John sounds like he’s offended all over again.

“Well, I knew I smelled a lot like Nick and Kim. And I told you I stayed at their house. But I was being totally honest, then and now, I just crashed out on the couch. With Nick, yeah, but fully clothed. No nonsense.”

John laughs a little, just the smallest bit, but it makes Rook’s heart leap in his chest. He has such a _nice_ laugh, a little sheepish at all times, like he’s unused to doing it but still enjoys it. 

“I didn’t think--it’s not my place to cast judgement.” John says then, a bit of a bite to the last words, like he’s reminding someone other than Rook.

“Well, but you might’ve anyhow. And I just wanted to make sure I apologized for any...misconceptions? And I’d love to make it up to you guys if you’re willing to give me the chance.”

“Make it up to us? You want to--you want to apologize that badly?” John sounds a little lost, a little confused, and Rook winces despite himself.

How many people in John Seed’s life have apologized to him? How many _Alphas_ have apologized?

How many people have actually meant it? 

He’s within his rights to be suspicious, to feel like he got his feet knocked out from under him. The Seeds might not want anything to do with him, apology or no, but he’s gonna be good to them regardless.

 _Someone_ has to be, for fucks sake.

“Yeah. Let me return the favor for you guys. Let me make you all a meal. I can’t promise something as good as your stew but--I’d really like to prove that I am sorry, and I promise I’ll put more thought into things in the future.”

“Are you offering to _cook_ for us?” John asks in a strangled way, voice a little too high.

“Yeah! I’d really like to, if you guys are willing to give me the chance! I don’t know if Joseph and Jacob would be alright with it but--”

“They’d be fine with it.” John squeaks and Rook frowns, rolling the lighter around almost endlessly in his palm now.

Of course, John agreed. Because Rook just showed them last night he can have a temper and there’s not a polite way to say “we don’t want to be anywhere near you”. 

“How about--you can ask them? And get back to me, whether it’s yes or no, I promise I won’t be upset if you guys don’t feel comfortable with it. I just thought I would offer and let you guys kinda discuss it at your leisure.”

“I can bring it up at dinner? They’ll both be here soon for it. So, I should be able to get back to you later tonight?”

“No rush.” Rook assures him, fighting back the urge to purr at the stressed out note in John’s voice. “Seriously, take your time. I don’t expect an answer right away, I’m willing to wait.”

“Okay. I will. Okay. I will...get back to you?”

Rook buries the urge to sigh at how frazzled John sounds, nodding along and forcing a smile onto his face in the hopes John can hear it in his voice. 

“Sounds good! I’ll be around, just give me a call whenever!”

He resists the urge to toss his phone to the ground after John mutters a shaky goodbye, clenching his hand around it so hard something plastic creaks in warning. He needs his phone, it’s how the Seeds are going to tell him if they accept him or want him to fuck off. 

No matter how much he feels like he wants to hit something right now.

He should have just left well enough alone. He needs to stop poking at the Seeds, let them do their thing without his troublesome interference. 

One dinner and then they’ll be even. Rook gets one more shot at not being a complete fuckhead and then it’s all over with. If it goes well, maybe they’ll still want to be friends. If it does not…

If he fucks up again, he is going to throw himself into the Henbane. Headfirst. 

The bar’s more crowded by the time he forces himself to stop standing outside like an idiot, picking up near dinnertime proper, and Mary May’s just settling plates in front of Nick and Kim when he sits back down. They all stare at him, Rook scowling back before downing the last of his beer.

“Can I have another? And a shot of whiskey?”

“Oooh, it did not go well.” Sharky singsongs, holding his glass up when Mary nods. “I’ll take the same. If Rook’s gonna get shit faced I ain’t gonna let him do it alone.”

“You’re just happy to drink on someone else’s tab.” Mary rolls her eyes but takes both their glasses, making her way through the crowd back towards the bar.

“So?” Kim asks, already chewing a mouthful of her burger. “What’d he say?”

“He said he would ask his brothers. And he sounded like I had a gun to his head, so I almost don’t want him to.”

“Rook, he’s an Omega and you just offered to cook for him. He’s gonna be a little thrown.”

“I kinda wish they just say no.” Rook mumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face, nodding in thanks when Mary clunks their refills down. “At least then I won’t have another shot at making an ass of myself.”

“Don’t think about that shot.” Sharky lifts both squat glasses, handing one over. “Think about _this_ shot. If we’re gonna get you plastered, my friend, we are gonna do it in style. And _then_ we can figure out this whole Seed bullshit.”

“He’s right, you know.” Nick points out, shoving another handful of fries into his mouth. “You’ve been thinking about them or with them for--what? Almost the full past day? Sounds like you need to loosen up some of those thoughts a little.”

And so, Rook does. 

He drinks and he drinks and he _drinks_. He drinks so much at one point Mary May shoves a plate of food at him with the order to “soak it the fuck up”. It swirls around him, sloshes his brain nearly out of his ear at one point when he leans over to say something to Nick and just...keeps leaning. The world is laughter and warmth and Rook fights back any maudlin feelings when he sees Nick and Kim nuzzle together on the other side of the table.

He doesn’t have that. He probably won’t.

But it’s okay! He has his friends and his family!

And if he gets lucky, if he doesn’t make a fool of himself, he might still be able to count the Seeds amongst those two categories. 

They drink and laugh and talk until Mary comes over to kick them out. Rook shoves his debit card at her with an order to put a “big tip on there for putting up with our drunken asses!” 

Probably a mistake. But she deserves it. 

He makes good money. It’ll be okay. If he has to dip into his savings to make it the two days until payday it’ll all work out. 

Rook stumbles out the front door, Sharky’s arm slung over his shoulders to keep them both on their feet. Nick and Kim follow behind, far steadier, Rook’s keys somewhere in one of Nick’s pockets, snatched around the third or fourth shot. 

He knows better than to go anywhere near his truck right now. Or let Sharky near his. Rook swings his head around, the world tipping and shaking for a moment until it settles.

There’s a hotel somewhere around here, right? He and Sharky can crash there for the night. 

“Come on, boys. I know for a fact my couch can hold two grown men.” Kim says, grabbing for his elbow and frowning when Rook shakes her off gently.

“Nope! I cannot! Because--because it’ll piss off the Seeeeeds. And I don’t wanna ‘cause I really like them.”

“Rook, they’re not gonna know.” Nick shakes his head. “Come on now. Neither of you are gonna make it home in this state.”

“Hotel!” Rook says with one finger raised, satisfied he’s already got a plan before it’s even brought up. “I have--I have money! I can get a room!”

“Yeah!” Sharky howls at his side. “Hotel party, man! Let’s get wild!”

Nick and Kim dissolve into laughter when Sharky tries to let out a real howl, Rook joining in because--well, one wolf howling is just kinda sad, y’know?

“Absolutely not. Nobody in their right mind would rent you two a room.”

“We ain’t gonna _fuck_ in it.” Sharky tells her, reeling Rook in close. “I don’t even wanna, man, I got fucked so good last night I don’t need any.”

“Lucky,” Rook whines as he pushes his nose against Sharky’s temple. “I wanna get fucked. That’s what--that’s what I was gonna do tonight. Find me some pretty Omega to let me screw around on top of them for a few hours.”

Kim slaps Nick’s arm when he stares wide eyed and whispers “hours?! Fucking _hours?!_ ”

“Rook, honey, think about this, okay? How are the Seeds gonna feel if they find out you spent a night in a hotel with Sharky? Or if they figure out you took some random Omega home with you?”

“I don’t know.” Rook pauses. “Wait, like--why would they care? I can do what I want. I’m not, like, dating them or anything. Or courting or--you know what I mean.”

“Trust me.” Kim grabs his chin, drags him down until they’re eye to eye. “You think they were pissed this morning? That’s _nothing_ compared to how mad they’ll be.”

“I don’t want them to be mad at me.” Rook whimpers. “I _really_ like them, Kim. All of ‘em.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. So, let’s get you back to somewhere safe for the night where they won’t be angry.”

Rook compiles, then, cowed by the idea of the Seeds being angry. He still doesn’t know why they’d be upset with him but...he really doesn’t like the idea. It makes him feel a bit sick to his stomach.

Or, possibly, that could be the mixture of whiskey and grease that’s being jostled around as Nick drives them out of town. 

His phone rings just as they’re pulling up to the house, but Rook can’t figure out how to get it out of his pocket with Sharky all but laying against his side. He resolves to call whoever back--probably the Sheriff, or maybe his mom after finding out he called everyone but her. Kim squints at him suspiciously as Nick tries to get Sharky through the front door, paused on the porch and regarding the distance between her and where Rook’s standing by the hood of the car.

“Gotta return a call.” He wriggles the phone once he gets it out of his pocket. “Be two secs. If I’m not, send a search party.”

She mutters something that sounds a lot like “I will” but Rook can’t focus on it.

Can’t focus on anything really. Except for his phone and the glowing notification preview on the lock screen. 

1 Missed Call (9:42pm)--Joseph Seed

He should not call him back. He really is too drunk for it. But just seeing his name sobers him a bit, rights the world around him. Makes him feel like he’s standing on terra firma instead of puffy cotton candy. 

He’s probably calling to tell Rook no. To tell him they decline his offer. 

And Rook would much prefer to hear that heartbreaking news when he’s drunk. 

The phone is ringing in his ear before he’s really aware he returned the call, one hand on the truck hood for balance. Rook nudges a bit of gravel around with his toe, waiting until the rings stop and there’s a quiet “Rook?” in his ear.

“Hey, sorry, I missed your call?”

“It’s alright. I’m sure you were busy.”

Rook can’t hold back his snort, but he doesn’t elaborate when he mutters “yeah, you could say that.”

He knows Joseph is curious on the other end, waiting in silence like he expects some sort of explanation. Rook’s not going to give it to him.

Minimal talking. If he doesn’t speak a shit ton, maybe Joseph will miss the way he can feel he’s slurring some of his words.

“Rook, John said--are you alright?”

Rook clamps down on the unintentional purring, thunking a hand against his chest like he could physically hold it back. He hadn’t even known he was doing it until Joseph asked and he had to wonder about _why_ he was asking.

Fuck, he sounds so _good_. Calm and even, voice just a little twangy with the accent he never shook off, rough like he’s been speaking all day.

He wants Joseph to say his name more. A lot more.

“Rook?”

Shit. Yes. Phone conversations take two people communicating.

“Sorry, yes, it’s late, I’m tired. Sorry.”

Joseph is quiet for a moment.

“Rook? Are you drunk?”

Rook winces, pulls the phone away from his face to whisper-spit curses, stomping his foot against the ground. If he didn’t think it’d hurt his hand, he’d probably hit the truck. _Why_ did he think this was a good idea? 

Why didn’t he just wait until tomorrow?

“Maybe. Yes. Definitely yes.”

“Are you alright? Do you need someone to come get you?”

“Oh, no, no, I’m fine. I’m totally fine. I’m at--” Rook remembers the scene from this morning with aching clarity even as buzzed as he is. “I’m at a friend’s house. Alpha friend. No worries.”

“If you need someone to take you to your home...”

“I don’t want you to...see me like this.” Rook says quietly before his brain can kick in and swallow the words back. “I know you don’t--don’t approve of a lot that I do. I don’t want you to think about me like this. Drunk and dumb.”

“I don’t--” Joseph inhales, a little shaky, voice strained. “Rook, whatever I might have said or done to make you think I disapprove of you, I apologize for it. I do not think badly on you or your behaviors. You prescribe to a different way of living your life than me and my flock do and that is fine. There is beauty in our differences.”

“I scared you. You and John and Jacob. And I didn’t mean to. And I know--I know drunk Alphas are about the last thing any of you wanna deal with ever again.”

Rook slides to the ground at Joseph’s sharp inhale and slow exhale. He closes his eyes, props his forearm against his bent knee and knocks himself in the head a few times. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

Why did he even bring it up? Why did he even call him back?

Because he wanted to hear his voice. Simple as that. Because the idea of leaving Joseph on read, ignored even for a small period of time, makes something in his chest ache. 

Fuck. He’s too drunk for this. This was a bad idea. This was all a bad idea.

“You are not the type of Alpha our father was. You could never be. You are kind and thoughtful and protective. You would martyr yourself before you lay a hand on me or my siblings and we _know_ this. We do not fear you, Rook.” There’s a small noise, almost like a broken sort of laugh. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Which, really, makes it worse. Because that means they _trust_ him. The opposite of fear is trust and Rook snapped that in half this morning, did it again when he lied to Joseph just now about where he was.

Lies of omission are still lies. 

“Please let me cook dinner for you guys. Let me make it up to you. I’ll be good, Joseph, I swear I will. I’ll keep my temper, I won’t scare you like that ever again. Just...please. Give me one more chance.”

“I would give you a hundred chances. Over and over. You deserve them.” Joseph tells him quietly, Rook clenching his eyes tight as the whiskey twists his words.

Twists them into something loving. Something devoted. The words of a smitten lover instead of a patient friend. 

He needs to get off the phone and fast. Before he does something fucking stupid like ask Joseph Seed out on a date. 

He’s pretty sure Jacob would drive down here and hand him his ass even this late at night. And Rook would let him. He’d deserve it. 

_Friends_. He hisses at the Alpha in the back of his mind, crowing that seeing Jacob might be fun. _We_ are friends and friends don’t ask friends on dates. Especially not Alpha and Omega friends.

“Thank you. I will--tomorrow? I can call you and we can figure out a time.” Rook laughs, hollow, forced to lighten the air. 

Fuck, he forgot how weepy he gets when he drinks whiskey.

“I’m not in a position to be making any plans tonight.”

“Of course.” Joseph pauses for a moment, silence falling. “Rook? Please, tomorrow, at some point, whenever you wake up--let me know you’re alright?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“I will, regardless of your insistence.” Joseph says. “So, if you would?”

“Yeah.” Rook tells the sky, the yawning expanse above him that he wants to just fall into, disappear for a while. “I will. Goodnight, Joseph.”

“Goodnight, Rook.”


	6. A Second Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh My goodness. Guys, gals, those that are somewhere in between, I AM SO SORRY this is "late." Work called me in early so I completely forgot this needed to be posted for you to work with Momo's schedule she and I decided on. Plus, unlike Momo, I'm on the West Coast so it's still _technically_ July 5th for me lol.
> 
> Anyway, as promised, to some, here is another interlude with the Seeds' POV. We have it all planned out for there to be interludes every third chapter. So two chapters then an interlude, rinse and repeat.
> 
> In other news, I have EVEN MORE chapters from Momo.... there are so many chapters for someone on vacation. AND ...omg y'all if the ending for this story we came up with yesterday is the one she ends up going with ... y'all are gonna die. Heck, I thought I was gonna die discussing it with her and _I_ came up with the idea. (Please don't kill me when it's over.) I can promise you'll like the final result though and that's coming from someone who hates it when she says "last chapter." 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the show! ~[Ri](http://rithebeta.tumblr.com)

“He wants to do _what?_ ”

Joseph doesn’t flinch at Jacob’s snarled question, but John does, shrinking back in his seat as Jacob’s scent turns sour and acrid. He knew his brothers wouldn’t take it well, but he figured Joseph would be the one agitated by it all.

He should have known better. 

“He said he wants to--to make us dinner and--”

“Absolutely not.” Jacob jabs his fork into the table so hard it stays there after he lets go, vibrating slightly in place. “What the fuck did we do wrong? It was good food, we kept his bowl full and his glass topped off until he was satisfied.”

“I don’t think,” Joseph says slowly, “that this is an Alpha attempting to show us where we went wrong in feeding him. I think this is Rook...being nice.”

John nods along. “He said, verbatim, I’d really like to prove that I’m sorry. I was confused too but...I agree with Joseph. You heard Rook, he grew up in the city. Things are different there, his _parents_ were different.”

“Alphas don’t cook Omegas meals unless they’re courting or feeding them after a heat.” Jacob shakes his head. “Or they think the Omega did a shit job and want to teach them the proper way to please.”

“We are all too familiar now, I believe, with how Rook likes to upset those careful balances. Think on it, Jacob; has Rook ever pushed you? Ever given you an order?” 

Jacob scowls at Joseph’s quiet questioning but his eyes glance off into the background, going distant for a moment like he’s thinking. There’s a long pause, Jacob’s fingers drumming in agitation on the table proof enough that he’s finding a lack of anything in his memories.

“No.” He says finally, wearily. “He hasn’t. I don’t think he even pushed that night when he broke up the bar fight.”

“Rook is a gentle soul. It is why he was Chosen for us. A soft wrapping against our harder edges, carved by others who weren’t as kind as he.” Joseph seems inordinately pleased, like this is all going according to some secret plan of his. “He would rather cut off his own arm than raise it against us. Would prefer cutting out his tongue to hold back any insults.”

“He stripped off in our front room because we didn’t like how he smelled.” John points out, a bit of a whine rising in his throat at the memories.

He knew Rook was well built. Sturdy and strong. There had been a few times, when he’d been helping to fix up what John one day hopes he will consider his home, he’d stripped down to little more than a scrap of an old undershirt. Sweat holding it close to his skin, the tanned skin of his muscles on display as he worked. 

John had exhausted himself, walked with a limp for _days_ after the first time Rook had taken his button down off. He’d fucked himself on his fingers, on a few toys, until his body was a limp mess and he didn’t have a voice left. 

If he remembers correctly Rook had brought him _tea_ after hearing the scraped raw warble of his voice the next day. Told him to take it easy and try not to catch a cold.

Ridiculous Alpha.

But perfect.

The morning had been proof of that. Rook was fearfully built, lined with muscles and scars from a life well lived. His cock was big even when soft, what little John had managed to stare at before palms covered it. 

He chuffs at the very thought of his future mate hiding his body from him. He’ll teach Rook his body is something to be proud of, displayed at every opportunity.

In the safety of their home. For their eyes only. 

Jacob sighs, yanks the fork from the table, rubs a finger over the marks it left with an apologetic grimace on his mouth. 

“And he ran out the door like the room was on fire.”

“He thought he’d upset us. And he did, to be fair.” John taps a finger against his glass. “None of us were pleased with his accommodations last night.”

“He should have just stayed here. He didn’t have to go to some other Omega’s home.” Jacob snarls. “If it had been another Alpha, I wouldn’t have given a shit. But he chose another Omega over us. _That_ pisses me off.”

“He was being polite. In his mind, at the very least.” Joseph says airily. “What was your plan, Jacob? We couldn’t keep him here, he was intent upon leaving. Did you intend to tie him to something?”

There’s a moment where all of them shiver, picturing the same powerful arms wrapped neatly in rope and pinned into place. Rook at their mercy, probably completely happy with his lot in life and willing to allow them to do as they pleased. Joseph shakes himself, eyes a little softer, clearing his throat to bring John and Jacob’s attentions back to him.

“He must see for himself that we are his mates. We cannot force him into this realization. To do so would be to interfere with God’s plan.”

“The Voice was that precise about it, huh?” Jacob asks with a grimace. 

Ever since Joseph first heard the Voice, years and years ago, it was always...fleeting. A riddle wrapped in an enigma. Barely even words, just an idea or a vision. 

Joseph nods, eyes alight with fire as he recites. “He must submit himself of his own accord. Do not extend your hand with the intention to drag, only with the acceptance of receiving.”

Jacob huffs, like he’s agitated, and John knows Sunday’s sermon this week will be about temperance and trusting in God’s plan--if Joseph’s slight glare is anything to go by. 

“He’s expecting an answer.” John murmurs, dragging his brother’s attentions away from each other and to him. “He said he was. Willing to wait but...either way, he said. Just let him know.”

“It is strange and new...but it could be quite pleasurable.” Joseph sets gentle fingers against Jacob’s wrist. “Perhaps we could bring a dessert of some sort? A middle ground for your discomfort.”

Jacob considers it for a second, jaw working, but he finally mutters a clipped “fine.”

Joseph nods like that’s that and John scrapes his fork against the last bits of leftover food still on his plate. 

“Who should answer him?”

“He called you.” Jacob grunts, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“And he called you this morning to say he was dropping by.” John stabs the fork in his direction. “Don’t act like you’re upset. I’m the most readily available by phone, you don’t even _have_ yours half the time.”

“I fucking do.”

“Where is it right now, then?”

Jacob pats angrily at his pockets, frown fading slightly when he comes up empty and curses.

“See!” John waves the fork between them. “So, don’t get pissy with me.”

“John. Jacob.” Joseph rubs idly at the space over his glasses, over the bridge of his nose. “Please. Jealousy has no place in our affections.”

“Then you should be the one to say yes. We’ve both talked to him. You haven’t.”

John nods along with Jacob’s words. Joseph rolls his eyes, sighs, but his head tips in acquiescence. 

“If you wish.”

John pushes away from the table then, content that the conversation is over, moving towards the couch as Jacob starts clearing away the plates. It’s strange to think that one day Rook will be a part of the assigned ‘chores’ of their house. He knows better than to think Rook won’t try to help with the housework, taking his turn at cleaning the kitchen and doing laundry.

The thought of Rook in front of the washer, getting his scent all over their freshly washed clothes, has John throwing himself face down on the couch. 

If he tries very hard, concentrates, he can still smell the barest lingering scent of Rook pressed into the cushions. Something calming that reminds him of his college library’s older section, pages well-worn and books covered with a thin layer of dust if no one had taken them out in a while. He used to study there, curled between the stacks, papers and books spread around him as he pushed the world away.

Fitting that his Alpha would smell like the closest thing to peace he ever found at that point in his life. But it makes sense. God guides all things and must have steered him towards that darkened section in the back of the building, creating a link in his mind between the scent and the concepts of safety, privacy, _home_.

He’d looked so good there last night. Soft and warm, clothed in Jacob’s things, smelling of warmth and happiness as they’d chatted aimlessly.

It’s never boring with Rook, the conversation falling flat or dull. There’s always something in his voice that pulls John to listen, even when he’s recounting stupid tales of his youth and his damn brother. He _wants_. Wants to be accepted by Rook’s clearly adoring parents, welcomed into the house Rook has told them about growing up in.

Fuck, he even wants to pass inspection for Rook’s annoying older brother. 

“I’m going to call him.” Joseph murmurs as he passes by, a skim of his hand over John’s hair and a lightness to his step. 

John grunts his acknowledgement, lifting his head out of the couch once the door shuts quietly behind Joseph’s sunny scented joy. Jacob’s just finishing up, drying his hands on a towel near the sink, glancing over at him like he can feel the weight of John’s gaze.

“What?”

“He’s _bouncing_.”

Jacob laughs, low and gruff, Judge’s head lifting from the bed for a moment at the sound before it plops back down onto his paws.

“Joseph wants Rook just as much as we do. You smelled him last night. He just thinks he has to hide it for some reason.”

“Joseph’s got a lot of practice in hiding what he wants. Maybe Rook’ll be the one to bring him out of his shell.” John flips onto his back, sacrificing his nose in the cushions for a better chance at meeting Jacob’s eyes as he settles in his usual chair by the fire. “He’s so...he’s always put us before himself.”

He’s quiet for a moment, memories surfacing despite his best attempts to shove them down.

“And he’s not the only one.”

Jacob makes a noise low in his throat, shrugging slightly, carefully avoiding John’s gaze when he looks over.

“S’what I had to do. What we both had to do.”

“I want you to fuck Rook first.”

“I’m sorry?” Jacob swings his gaze around, eyes peeled wide. “What did you just say to me?”

“I _said_ ,” John sits himself up, picks an imaginary bit of lint off his leg as he crosses his legs neatly. “I want you to fuck Rook first. I wanted to, I still want to. But you deserve to. You deserve to have it--you’ve gone without for longer than Joseph or me. So, you should be first.”

“John, this isn’t--” Jacob laughs with another shake of his heard, more a bark than an expression of amusement. “This isn’t some line out the door. We’re not going to do the whole ‘no, after you’ bullshit. Whatever happens...happens. No matter who’s involved at the time.”

John hums, tipping his head to side from side. Considering.

“I suppose. But still. I’d like you to have him first.”

“Well...shit...thanks? I think?”

Jacob laughs and John laughs too, amused by the oddity of it all. They’ll adjust, they always do, no matter what. Sharing an Alpha will be...an adventure. Perhaps a bit off-settling, perhaps a bit scary at times. But worth it.

Rook will complete them. Make them stronger than ever.

They both look over when Joseph steps back inside, a bit pale, hands shaking when he reaches up to pull his glasses off his face.

“Rook,” he says quietly, voice shaking, a whine barely hid, “is drunk. And he thinks we must _hate_ him for his display of anger in our home. I consoled him as best I could but…”

Or, alternately, Rook is going to kill them all of stress before the year is up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I didn't comb over this with a fine toothed comb like I usually do when I'm posting so if I missed something, please let me know so I can fix it? K Thanks ~Ri


	7. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much to say this time but I wanted to let you know that it was still me posting for Momo. (I wanna do this forever it's so awesome.) Okay, I lied there is more to say: this chapter is going to move us closer to Rook's rut ... smut be comin' yer way soon. (Crap I think I watched a movie with pirates in it too recently, sorry.) Anyway, enjoy this new chapter, it's a good one.  
> ~[Ri](http://rithebeta.tumblr.com)
> 
> PS~ It was brought to my attention that this is one heck of a slow burn so I have tagged it accordingly (sorry, I honestly didn't really notice, which is weird for me). All other tags that have been added are because I feel like Momo missed a few with some of her originals. If you think it should be tagged as anything else let us know. ;)

Rook makes terrible decisions and that’s fine. Humans are flawed creatures. He is allowed to fuck up and still be a good person at the end of the day. 

However, Staci Pratt is a very not nice person and Rook is about six seconds away from making another terrible decision. Like climbing out of a moving vehicle and hoping he still knows how to tuck and roll.

“Can we possibly, please, turn the radio down a little?”

“I like this song!” Pratt laughs, too loud and bright, reaching out to crank the volume even _higher_. “What’s wrong? No appreciation for the classics, Probie?”

“Pratt. I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Staci snorts but relents, turning the radio down until it’s a whisper in the background and Rook’s head stops pounding along with the beat. They’re making their way out to Fort Drubman, responding to some complaint or another Hurk Sr. had phoned in earlier this morning. Rook had wanted to stay behind his desk all day, sunglasses in place and coffee clutched in his hand as he tried to work through his hangover in peace, but he and Pratt were the only two Deputies in the office when Nancy stuck her head around the door to report.

The Sheriff is a protective Alpha. And after one too many snide comments about Pratt’s status and his chosen career field, he’d put his foot down on the Omega ever going out to Hurk Sr’s alone.

“You must have drank yourself out of your head last night.” Pratt comments. “I think you’re _sweating_ whiskey.”

Rook huffs, takes another sip of his--fourth? Fifth?--coffee of the day to buy himself some time. Drinking isn’t frowned upon in the office, Rook’s met with a lot of Deputies at the bar after work time and time again. Hell, even the Sheriff occasionally drops by for a beer or two. 

But Pratt is too smart and Rook’s really not looking to go into story time while trying to convince his stomach it does like food and wants to keep it inside. 

“Went out with Sharky and the Rye’s. Lost track of how much I drank.”

“Mmhmm, _except_ \--” Pratt grins over at him when Rook groans. “Someone who’s drinking that much is trying to drown something. Come on, tell Big Brother Staci what happened.”

“I have six years on you.” Rook reminds him with a scowl. “How about Big Brother takes a long walk off a short pier?”

Pratt’s scent swells then, cautiously pushing, and Rook grunts, slamming down on the power window button. It rushes out along with the scent of the mountains coming in and Pratt doesn’t force the issue.

“Stop. I’ll throw up.”

He doesn't mind how Pratt smells normally. A bit like clean laundry, fresh and new, with the distant undertone of a rainstorm. He’s on suppressants so most of the time he passes fairly well for a Beta, usually unable to push in the way he just did. Suspicion sharpens Rook’s eyes under his glasses, flicking over to watch Staci’s profile.

“You close to a heat?”

Pratt lifts a hand from ten and two, balls it up, and drives it into his thigh so hard Rook nearly drops his coffee.

“Ah! Fuck me--that _hurt!_ ”

“It was supposed to. My grandma would’ve done it ten times harder.” Pratt informs him, clicking on the turn signal and smoothly guiding them off paved highway and onto a dirt road. “You’re not supposed to ask those sorts of things. It’s rude.”

“You _pushed_ at me!” Rook says helplessly. “You normally never do that shit! What else was I supposed to think?”

Pratt doesn’t answer and, well...that’s answer enough. If Rook’s stomach wasn’t rolling in the way it is, he’d probably try and take a few more sniffs. Try and catch the heady undertone that lingers around an Omega nearing their heat, a little subtle hint to any in the area. 

But he doesn’t want to be punched again because Pratt hits _hard_ and he also thinks he might just aim for the face next time.

“I’m...getting close to my rut.” Rook throws out a hand to catch himself on the dashboard when Pratt slams on the breaks. “For fucks sake! Are you _trying_ to make me spill all over myself?!”

“I am not going to fuck you.” Staci grits out, eyes snapping over to him. “So, I don’t give a shit _how_ close you are to your rut.”

“I wasn’t--I wasn’t fucking _offering!_ ”

“Then why did you even bring it up?!”

“Because you were Mister ‘Tell Staci why you got drunk off your ass last night’ just a few minutes ago!”

Pratt regards him silently, eyes narrowed. Rook can see Hurk in the yard up ahead, hand across his brow like he’s trying to figure out what the hell they’re doing stopped in the middle of the driveway. He shifts uncomfortably under Pratt’s keen gaze, mouth opening at the same time Staci’s does to ward off the question he knows is coming.

“Yes, okay? Yes, I know who I want to spend it with. No, they’re not interested. Yes, I took the coward’s way out of dealing with my emotions by throwing back shot after shot.”

It’s not...technically a lie. Rook does know who he’d spend it with if given half the chance. And they’re not interested in any part of it. Despite the fact that his stupid brain can’t settle on a particular Seed brother, it doesn’t change the fact that he knows he wants _one_ of them. He’s honest with himself even if he’s not being honest with a lot of other people.

“Sucks.” Pratt comments, slowly easing them forward once more. “I know the feeling.”

Rook shifts his eyes over. “You do?”

“I do.” Pratt shoves the SUV into park a few feet away from where Hurk is waving happily. “And that’s the end of our heart to heart. Let me know--ah--just let me know if you need me to hold you back.”

Right. Because an Omega near their heat is enough to peel even the most aggressive Alpha off the ceiling. There’s something in their scent near that time, something innately calming. 

Rook might just need to take him up on the offer. They’re both fairly unpracticed at using their scents to calm others, more familiar with hiding them on the job, but it’s...sweet.

Really sweet for a man who punched him about five minutes ago.

“Might need that sooner rather than later.” Rook mutters when Hurk Sr. steps onto his porch, hollering down at them to get their asses over there.

Thankfully Pratt doesn’t need to, Hurk’s neutral scent calming Rook enough that he can deal with Senior ranting and raving about attempts to sabotage his campaign. It takes a while for them to reach an agreement--though he can tell Pratt wants to tell Senior where he can shove his complaints. 

_Apparently_ , Senior had gone around when the Peggies were in town, trying to sway their votes in his favor. And, according to them, they take their cues from the Seeds on who is a trustworthy candidate. Sensible, really, since all of the men have the connections and knowledge to advise the younger members of the church on what to look for in potential political runners.

According to Senior though, it’s all part of some plot to put one of them in office instead of him. And he asks--no, _demands_ \--that the Sheriff’s Department go figure out what the whole “plot” against him is. 

Treating them like errand boys, essentially. Because facing a Seed in aggression typically means facing more than one.

And Rook’s seen big’n’bad Alphas back down in the face of an irritated Jacob or a sharp-tongued John. 

They leave with airy promises to check out the situation, Rook swearing to Hurk he’ll make it up to him for not letting him know about the impromptu party he had last night. They finally climb back into the SUV after Rook agrees, with bile at the back of his throat just _thinking_ about it, he’ll meet Hurk later this week for drinks. 

“So,” Pratt says, guiding them back down the winding road. “You or me? He’s going to be a pain in the ass until one of us checks in with the Seeds and gets confirmation that he really is just fucking crazy.”

“You can do it.” Rook says, maybe a bit too quickly given the way Pratt arches a brow at him. “Uh, I mean, I just--I’m hungover. And the church doesn’t approve of drinking. So, I don’t wanna...uh...present the wrong kinda image for the Department.”

“Rook.” Staci says patiently, Rook panicking silently. “You literally pulled a kitten out of a tree at the last Pumpkin Fest. I’m pretty sure you could go around wearing the Eden’s Gate flag as a cape and they’d still think you hung the moon.”

“Bullshit.” Rook huffs with a wince at the memory.

He hadn’t really thought anything of it. He was charmed, sure, when the little girl had tugged frantically on his uniform pants and screeched out a “Deputy! Deputy, my kitty!” Climbing was something he’d done as a kid a lot and it wasn’t like it was a particularly big tree. The cat was gentle too, more scared than his owner when Rook had found him up high, clinging to a branch.

He’d scooped him up and scuttled back down the tree, handing over the ball of nervous fluff to the little girl who’d been beside herself with thanks. Her cries had attracted the attention of a small crowd, mostly church members who’d been worried about it, which meant Rook’s rescue was met with applause and cheers. 

He shivers, remembering how soft Joseph’s eyes had been when he’d placed a hand on Rook’s shoulder and gently told the little one she was smart for getting him to help as opposed to trying to scale the tree herself. There had been a Bible verse thrown in, something about not being ashamed to lean on others for help, and Rook had smiled blandly through it all and tried to escape as soon as possible.

Never did like being the center of attention. Especially not around Joseph when he was relaxed and amongst his people, voice lifted to praise his actions.

“Alright, fuck, enough.” Pratt snaps at him, dragging him from his head, the window whining as it rolls down until it’s flush with the door. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking that’s making you smell like that.”

“Shit, sorry.” Rook scrambles for his own window, nose scrunched up against the scent of his own attraction.

It’s thicker than it normally is, probably because he feels a bit like a caged cougar, close enough to his rut it’s going to start affecting his head.

Whatever the hell he’s feeling about the Seeds probably isn’t helping matters. 

They ride in silence for a bit, until Rook realizes they’ve passed the exit for the Sheriff’s station and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Uh...Pratt? You--uh--you missed--”

“I did not.” Pratt tells him. “I told you, we need to settle this. Or Senior is just going to continue to call in and bitch. It’s a nice day, I don’t mind being outside the office for a bit longer.”

“Pratt!” Rook hisses. “Was I speaking another language a few minutes ago? I said I don’t wanna come with you!”

Pratt hums, reaching over to pull the radio from its spot on the dashboard, pressing a few buttons before lifting it to his mouth.

“Pratt to dispatch, you there Nancy?”

“I’m here, Pratt. How’d it go?”

Rook tries to desperately mime for Pratt to please, please, if he cares about Rook at all, to stop the car. At least tap the breaks. Develop abrupt mutism.

Pratt merely rolls his eyes, a grin playing around the edges of his mouth.

“Seems Mr. Drubman is convinced the Seeds are embroiled in some plot to undermine his political campaign. We’re heading out to the church now to talk to them about it.”

Nancy makes a noise of disgust through the radio before chirping back at them to be safe and she’ll let the Sheriff know. Pratt neatly puts the radio back once they’ve both signed off, ignoring Rook’s glare at the side of his head.

“Pull over. I’m gonna throw you off the cliff.”

“You couldn’t hurt me if I had a gun to your head, Boy Scout.” Staci tells him airily. “So, stop throwing a hissy fit. Why are you so damn determined to stay away from the Seeds?”

Rook drinks deeply from his almost cold coffee, choosing not to answer. Which is possibly the worst decision he could have made, he supposes, as Pratt’s face softens slightly when he glances over, the gates of the church compound looming up the road.

“You don’t have to get out of the car if you don’t want to.”

“It’s alright.” Rook sighs, rubbing at his forehead wearily. “I think they’d be more offended if I stayed in here like some shitty teenager.”

Staci clearly agrees, even if he doesn’t say so as he slows to a stop before the gate, one of the men coming over to lean in through the window. The Eden’s Gate Compound serves as a rehab center as well as a place of worship and naturally there are quite a few inside who get jumpy at the sudden presence of officer in their midst. Pratt explains what they’re doing there, the guard rolling his eyes before informing them Joseph is just finishing up his sermon at the church and waving them through, radio up to his mouth by the time the gates swing open fully.

Rook instantly tries to reign his scent in, holding it inside as best he can. Eden’s Gate doesn’t believe in the use of suppressants, something they’d all learned early on, and the assault on his nose has Rook scrambling in the glove compartment for the small tin of mint all officers are issued. He smears a line beneath his nose, the overwhelming smell killing everything else from getting through, offers it up to Pratt who copies the motion once they’ve parked. 

Rook can see the small crowd milling around the front of the church, chatting at the end of a shared worship session and he winces when Joseph’s eyes immediately snap to their car the second Pratt opens his door. 

He ignores the slow spread of warmth in his chest when Joseph catches his eyes and smiles, waving them over. 

“Deputies,” he calls once they’re close enough. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence here? You are, I’m afraid, a bit late to attend the sermon.”

“At least we didn’t interrupt.” Rook says with a small sheepish laugh when Joseph’s eyes narrow slightly at him.

He knows they want him to come to at least one of them. He’s never been, always had an excuse ready. It’s not that Rook has a problem with religion as a whole, he just got sick of being dragged out of bed at ass o’clock on Sundays as a kid. He’s grown now, and his mom can’t force him into going to church and so he doesn’t have any real reason to sit on an uncomfortable pew and force himself to pay attention for a full hour. 

Except maybe Joseph. Who might just break Rook if he asks politely, softly, one more time.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t do so without just cause.” 

Pratt snorts, thankfully dragging Joseph’s knowing gaze away from him.

“This cause isn’t exactly just but it’s something we have to deal with. Is there a place we could talk in private, Father Seed?”

 _No_ , Rook wants to howl, _no_ privacy. I can barely stand being this close. 

He doesn’t recall everything from last night, but he knows he talked to Joseph. Probably said a lot of stupid shit. Most of it is lost to a whiskey and beer flavored haze but he vaguely remembers begging for another chance, to make them dinner and make up for whatever he’d done to upset them. 

He’d blearily opened his eyes this morning to the chime of his phone at an ungodly early hour, Joseph’s polite “Please remember to drink water and eat something” on the message notification like an accusation. 

“Of course.” Joseph inclines his head, gesturing to the still open church doors behind him. “Unless what we need discuss is...unfit for the current surroundings.”

Joseph is smart. Calm and even though his gathered seem nervous about whatever Rook and Pratt are there for. To be fair, Pratt’s been pretty dodgy about the whole thing--with good reason because they’d be laughed out of the compound if he explained it all in the middle of a crowd--but still. 

“No, no, the church is fine.” Pratt stops a few steps after Joseph turns and heads inside. “Rook? You coming?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rook mumbles, choosing to stare at his feet instead of Joseph’s eyes when he looks over his shoulder at them. “Hold your horses.”

He offers the Peggies a tight smile, one that softens and is joined by a wriggle of his hand at a familiar small face that peeks out from behind the material of a dress to wave furiously at him. Joseph closes the doors behind them once they’re both inside, shutting out the curious eyes, and starts up and down the pews, clearing up forgotten pieces of paper. 

“How can I help you?”

Pratt glances over at him but Rook shrugs, unwilling to take the lead.

This was _his_ great idea, after all. He needs to deal with this shit.

“It would seem,” Staci says with a scowl at Rook, arms crossing over his chest, “that Hurk Drubman Sr. suspects Eden’s Gate of interfering with his political campaign.”

Joseph’s laugh is soft as he exits one of the pews back into the aisle proper, idly tapping the papers in his hands to rights.

“On what evidence?”

“According to him, he says you’re swaying the Eden’s Gate votes away from him.”

“I don’t personally agree with Mr. Drubman’s political leanings, but I can assure you, my flock is always welcome to subscribe to their own beliefs. I would not try to change their political stance should they find a common ground with his...ah...proclamations and intentions.”

Rook can’t help but snort a laugh at Joseph’s careful words and benignly pleasant face. Which looks a bit tight. 

Joseph doesn’t like Senior. Makes sense, Rook knows all too well what Senior thinks of “uppity” Omegas. He can’t even _imagine_ how pissed the man must be to know that not only is Joseph not a cowering homemaker, he’s the head of a church. A leader. With hundreds following his teachings.

No, wait, he can imagine it quite easily. And he likes it.

“Basically, he wants to know if you guys--meaning you or your brothers--have any intentions of running in opposition to him.” Staci informs him with a snort. “Which I’m pretty sure we could’ve answered without coming out here.”

“I don’t imagine any of us have the time.” Joseph says with a small laugh, gesturing at the church around him. “As you can see, we have quite a bit to take up our attention.”

Staci nods, tucks his thumbs into his belt and smiles, placid and faux professional.

“Thank you for your time, Father Seed. We’ll be leaving now. If you ever do get any ambitions towards running for office, please hesitate to let us know.”

He turns, smacking a hand against Rook’s shoulder.

“C’mon, Probie. I’m starving. Buy me lunch for playing driver.”

“Ah, a moment, if you don’t mind?” Pratt pauses as Rook freezes in place, stomach sinking at Joseph’s quiet words. “May I speak with you, Deputy Wylde? In private, provided Deputy Pratt is comfortable with that.”

 _Please_ do not be comfortable with it, Rook tries to beg with his gaze, shoulders sinking when Pratt glances at him with a huge grin.

“Not a problem. I’ll be in the car. Take all the time you need.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass.” Rook hisses at his retreating back, snapping around at the soft clearing of Joseph’s throat. “What? Yes. What did you need?”

The closing of the church doors seems too loud in the silence. Like a gunshot. Joseph regards him silently, walking closer slowly, setting the papers down on a nearby pew once they’re only a few inches from each other. His hands raise, purposefully kept in Rook’s peripheral, and Rook slams his eyes closed when they reach forward to grasp at the arms of his sunglasses.

Joseph is achingly gentle when he pulls them from Rook’s face, a soft sound emerging from his throat. He knows he looks like shit, eyes ringed in black from lack of proper sleep, skin probably still a bit too pale. He’s not 20 anymore, his body likes to remind him, and the bounce back from a night of heavy drinking seems to take longer and longer with each year that passes.

“Are you alright?” He asks carefully, softly. 

“Yeah,” Rook opens his eyes, clears his throat when it comes out a bit strangled. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just...well, we talked last night. You heard the state of me.”

He winces. 

“Sorry about that.”

Joseph waves away his concerns, fingers idly bending and straightening the arms of Rook’s pilfered glasses. Like _he’s_ nervous. 

“Please do not apologize. You are a grown man, you are welcome to live your life as you see fit. And it is not my place to judge others on their choices.”

“Still…” Rook trails off when Joseph arches a brow at him, blowing out a breath. “Alright. Still. I shouldn't have called you.”

“Is it wrong of me to say I was happy you did?” Joseph asks. “Liquor...loosens your tongue. You are so guarded around my brothers and I. Hard to read at times. I might not have approved of the means through which the honesty came but I was...it was a relief to not have to second guess your words.”

Joseph huffs out an amused breath.

“I suppose that is a sin, in some ways. To take pleasure in your indulgences. We will have to keep that between us.” 

He winks, and Rook’s breath catches in his throat for a split second. 

Just because Rook isn’t a part of Eden’s Gate doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand why so many are. Joseph looks ethereal in his element, almost glowing amongst the dark wood of the church. He’s in his comfort zone, in control of everything around him, and it’s _breath-taking_.

And Rook really needs to get the fuck out of here. 

“Right.” He forces a laugh. “Our little secret. My lips are closed, you can trust me.”

He hooks a thumb over his shoulder.

“So, I should be...I mean, I’m still on the clock so--”

“Of course.” Joseph extends his glasses towards him but folds his hands over Rook’s when he reaches out to grab them. “Rook? Our answer has not changed. Provided your offer of dinner has not been rescinded…”

“No, no, yeah, it’s still there! Uh...when?”

Joseph thinks for a moment, still clasping his hands, and Rook can feel sweat starting to bead at the back of his neck. He can’t smell him through the mint but that’s _worse_ in a lot of ways. Because everything in him is screaming at him to take a deep breath, try and figure out what emotions hide behind a carefully pleasant mask. 

“Our schedules are busy, true, but they are also fairly malleable. Your next day off?”

“Uh...that’d be…” Rook squints, tries to think of the board he’d checked this morning when he clocked in. “Next Tuesday?”

“Next Tuesday then.” Joseph squeezes his hands gently before letting go. “I look forward to it.”

Rook grins, innately pleased, and mumbles something about being excited in return. He walks from the church in a haze, aware of Joseph’s gaze on his back as he goes. Pratt looks up when he settles inside the car, putting his phone to sleep and dropping it into his lap in favor of starting to maneuver them out of the compound. 

A thought occurs once they clear the gate, finally back on the way to the station, and Rook groans, hands slamming into his face like he could knock better sense into his head by force alone.

“What?” Staci asks. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t know how to _cook_.” Rook groans out, muffled, peeking out from between his fingers when there’s no immediate response.

Pratt is staring at him, eyes flicking back and forth to the road every so often but staying locked on him.

“Alpha’s are so fucking weird.” He mutters finally.

Rook can’t even argue.

He makes it through the rest of the day--ish. Sure, Nancy looks at him strange when he casually drops by her desk to ask if she has any “y’know, favorite recipes or something like that? Easy to make but satisfying?”

“Are you thinkin’ of throwing a barbecue, honey? You know, Eden’s Gate would be happy to pitch in, we’re all about lending a hand.”

“No, no, that’s alright. Thank you anyway!” Rook had mumbled, taking off and nearly tripping over her doorframe in his haste to escape.

And yes, Hudson had stopped by his desk with a wide grin on her face as Rook huddled in his seat and tried to convince King to stop. Fucking. Laughing. At him.

“S’that the infamous King?” She’s asked, Rook shooing her away and wincing when his waving hand was neatly slapped down. 

“What’s got you calling big brother in the middle of the day?”

“He’s a fucking idiot!” King had howled through the receiver before Rook had abruptly hung up and shoved his phone into his desk drawer.

He was tempted to shove his own head in there alongside it. 

By the time he gets home he throws himself inside, locking the world on the other side of the door. His shoes hit the wall, belt discarded somewhere between living room and kitchen, and Rook leaves his shirt draped over the back of a chair carelessly. He barely glances at his phone when it rings on the counter, catching sight of the Caller ID and lunging to press it to his ear.

He doesn’t even bother with polite greetings.

“Moooom,” he wails, “I don’t know how to _cook!_ Why didn’t you teach me how to cook?!”

“Well, hello to you too, darling.” His mom’s laughter is as bright as it always is, like the ringing of bells in his ears. “I didn’t teach you how to cook because someone was always too busy playing outside to come in until dinner was already on the table.”

“But I don’t know how! I don’t even think I can make mashed potatoes! Surely that makes me like...a failure as an Alpha or something?”

“You’re not a failure.” His mom says. “But you are a bit dramatic. Google exists, honey.”

“I tried that! And I don’t even know what to make so I just wound up searching for recipes and I found a lot for alcohol drinks and sweet stuff.” Rook stomach growls at the reminder of the perfectly presented food pictures he’d scrolled through while stuffing his lunch into his face. “And I need to make like...a dinner. A good dinner. A _really_ good dinner.”

His mother hums, just a bit of a purr there, probably to calm his frantic words. It works, just as well as it always did, and Rook props himself against the counter to listen. She’s clearly thinking, the shuffle of papers in the background evidence of something to do with her hands while her brain works.

“Well, who are you making dinner for?”

“Do I...need to tell you that?”

“Rook Rhys.” Her tone brooks no argument. “Even if I didn’t need to know how many you want to feed, I would still want you to tell me who’s got you all worked up in a tizzy.”

“There’s these--” Rook sighs, rubs the heel of his hand against one eye. “Didn’t dad tell you? Or King?”

“I think I’d rather hear it from my son, if it’s all the same to you.”

Rook blows out a frustrated huff.

“There’s these three Omegas I know. Brothers, all of them. They invited me to dinner and I sort of...lost my temper a bit. Not at them but at a situation that happened a long time ago. And that’s not the only thing I’ve done to upset them. So, I offered to make it up to them by cooking dinner for them in return. And now I’m dying because I’m a grown ass man who lives off whatever fits in the microwave and take out.”

His mother clucks her tongue and Rook rushes to cut off her lecture at the pass.

“I know, I know! Eat better, the key to a healthy life is a healthy diet, blah blah blah.”

“Rook.”

He winces, immediately cowed.

“Sorry, mom. I’m sorry. I’m just...incredibly stressed out.”

“So, I can tell.” She hums, the steel gone in an instant from her voice. “Well, honey, I’d say, for one, I’m very proud that you’re willing to admit you’ve done wrong and try to make amends. God knows your brother is still pigheaded as they come. And for two...are these Omegas...friends?”

“I really like them.” Rook sighs, unwilling and unable to hide anything from his mother’s quiet acceptance, even over the phone. “I like them a lot, mom. And if I could figure out which one I liked _best_ , I’d be calling you and asking for courting advice. But I can’t. And I’m pretty sure they’d all turn my down anyhow.”

“Oh, honey--”

“It’s fine.” Rook speaks over her quietly exhaled words. “I’m fine. I’m okay with being friends. I’m not gonna let the fact that I’m attracted to them change our friendship. You raised me better than that.”

“I know I did.” His mom laughs. “So, here is my proposition for you, before I go scrolling through your grandmother’s old recipe book. Ask them what they like to eat. What they don’t like to eat. If they’re allergic to anything. And then you can let me know and I’ll send over a recipe.”

“Thank you,” Rook breathes, slumping in place. “You are the best mom, hands down. I love you.”

“And I love you.” There's chatter in the background, the familiar beep of a pager going off. “And I am also the best OB on staff right now. Gotta go, sugar. Get back to me, okay?”

Rook signs off after quickly agreeing, shooting off a quick “fuck you, you weren’t supposed to tattle to mom” text to King before tossing his phone onto the counter. He buys himself time, avoids it as best he can for a while. Tosses a ready meal in the microwave and goes upstairs to change into sweats while he waits. 

He doesn’t even bother putting a shirt on because he always spills the spaghetti ones on himself anyhow.

There’s a reply when he comes back down, a series of laughing emojis and one single middle finger from King, that has Rook snorting as he pulls his dinner out. He eats slowly, stretching it out until the last few bites are cold, while he scrolls through his email and essentially avoids the messaging app for as long as he can.

When he can’t anymore or risk looking like an idiot, Rook chooses Jacob. Jacob’s the oldest, he’d know about any food allergies or aversions. And he’s already talked to John and Joseph enough.

He likes them, he does, but his brain does funny shit around them. Jacob is like a rock, an unmoving island that might make his heart skip a beat or his cock jerk in his pants, but he calms him. Makes Rook relax a little.

Even if he does, on occasion, scare the shit out of him.

It’s not until he’s sent off the “got a minute?” text and watched his phone ring in horror that Rook realizes--Jacob probably doesn’t text much. He doesn’t seem the type, really. 

For fucks sake, he’s going to get himself killed if he doesn’t start being a little quicker on the uptake. 

“Hey, hi, Jacob?” He answers in a scramble once he realizes he’s nearly listened for the full song of his ringtone. “Are you there?”

“I’m here.” Jacob sounds a little amused but that’s probably how he always feels around Rook.

Probably like watching a puppy fall down the stairs.

“Hey, sorry, I was a little...busy.”

“You texted me.” Jacob reminds him. “Might’ve wanted to wait until you weren’t busy to ask me to chat.”

“Yes. Yes, that is...yes.”

Rook bites his lip, glares at his reflection in the microwave door. Fucking get it together, Wylde. He scoots a few loose pieces of mail around the counter, buying himself time. 

“So, I guess--dinner? You guys are okay with coming to dinner Tuesday?”

“I thought Joseph already told you it was fine?”

“No, no, he did. He did.” This is going just fucking swell. “I just wanted to make sure it was, y’know, unanimous. Nobody felt forced into anything.”

“As adorable as it is that you thought of me, do I really seem the type to allow myself to be forced into anything?”

“Nope.” Rook pops the word. “You most certainly do not.”

“Rook,” Jacob sighs, “not that I’m not alright with just bullshitting about nothing with you, are you okay? You sound like you’re having a stroke.”

Great. So much for keeping a cool head. 

Rook groans softly, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He trusts Jacob. Jacob has probably spent time around some meathead Alphas before. He knows what they can be like.

“So, I don’t know...how to cook.” Rook admits softly. “But I still want to make a nice meal for you all. I called my mom for advice and she’s going to give me a recipe but...I need to know what you guys like and what you don’t like. Any allergies and stuff like that. So, I can decide what’s best.”

There’s a long silence on the other end, so long Rook pulls the phone away to check the call didn’t drop. It’s still going, the tiny timer in the corner seeming to judge him as the seconds tick by in the quiet. 

“You don’t--” Rook hurries to put the phone back to his ear, Jacob’s voice a little strange sounding through the distance he’d been holding it at. “You don’t know how to cook, and you still invited us to dinner?”

“I wanted to do something nice for all of you. I don’t think you guys would appreciate flowers and I wanted to...even it out. Do something for you like you’d done for me.”

Jacob makes a soft noise, the meaning indistinguishable through the distance between them. 

“Where are you?”

“Me? I’m...at home? Why?”

“Where’s home? I’m out, coming back from a job over at the County Jail. I can--if you don’t mind--I can stop by. Give you all the info in person.”

Ah. That explains the slight hum in the background. Jacob’s truck makes one hell of a mean sounding growl in person, it was almost unrecognizable over the phone. Rook looks around his home for a split second.

There’s something inside his chest going absolutely bonkers at the thought of Jacob inside his personal space. Leaving his scent behind. Sitting on Rook’s couch, relaxing in the place he’s made his own. He’s not home enough for it to be a mess, really, and in reality, it’s a bit...empty. He only needs the barest essentials since he’s using his house for more a bedroom with attached living space than a real home. 

Jacob could make it a real home. Fill it with the scent of an Omega. Leave it lingering behind until Rook’s desperate to get through the front door each day.

“If you’re comfortable with it?” Rook rattles off his address when Jacob gives him an assenting hum. “Have you--it’s dinner time, right? Do I need to--”

“I’ll grab a pizza on the way over. S’the least I could do for invading your space.”

“How about,” Rook barters, unwilling to let the Seeds brothers feed him more and unbalance the scales further, “I will order a pizza. And by the time it gets here, you will be here too.”

Jacob huffs but agrees and they hang up a few minutes later. It only takes a second to call for the food, the pizza place a ways down the road knowing his order by heart at this point. Rook rushes around, cleaning what little needs cleaned and growling internally when he finds himself straightening the blanket thrown across the back of the couch for the third time.

He knows what his subconscious is trying to do. Leave it casually draped so Jacob has to lean back against it if he sits down, the heavy fur trapping his scent inside. 

It’s annoying. And yet another sign that his rut is right around the corner. 

The doorbell rings faster than he thought it might, Rook heading towards the door to whip it open with a grin.

“Heya, Rachel, how’s--Jacob!”

Jacob lifts a brow, two pizza boxes neatly stacked in one big hand, and Rook can see the younger girl who always delivers to him waving from the street as she climbs back into her car. 

“We got here at the same time. Said you’d already paid so she just handed them off to me.” Jacob’s eyes flicker down, almost imperceptibly, Rook wouldn’t have caught him if he wasn’t staring at his face. “You always answer the door for pizza half naked?”

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck. 

Rook is going to superglue a shirt to his body. That way he can stop being any sort of naked around the Seed brothers. 

“No, I--I ate a little and I didn’t wanna spill--not that I’m, like, incapable of eating neatly, I just--”

“Rook,” Jacob laughs, head tipped back a bit, broad shoulders shaking. “I’m _joking_.”

Rook flushes, steps aside and motions for Jacob to come in. He points him to the kitchen and then mutters a quick, “I’ll go grab a shirt from upstairs. Be right back.”

He firmly ignores Jacob’s teasing call of “don’t dress on my account.”

Friends. They are friends. And Rook is not going to be able to stop thinking distinctly un-friend-like things if he stays half-dressed around Jacob Seed.


	8. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst ... Updated tag AND rating ... I _might_ have been a little misleading when I said smut was coming but .... That doesn't mean it's not still smutty... The stuff you are excepting is still coming, I promise. It will be coming. I mean it's Momo right? She can't help it and that's why we love her!!
> 
> Enjoy this new chapter  
> ~[Ri](http://rithebeta.tumblr.com)

Predictably, as with most things, Rook's life goes from bad to worse. Just when he thinks it might change, might ease even the slightest bit, God delivers a bitch slap that sends him reeling.

It had all been looking up too!

Saturday was a day of mostly busy work, filling out paperwork the Sheriff had put off until the end of the week. Sunday was checking in on the Jail, driving around and checking to make sure whoever was hunting and fishing had the proper licenses to do so. Monday was, up until the last call he took before he clocked out, incredibly boring. He'd spent most of the day cleaning his desk, challenging Hudson and Pratt on who could make the most baskets as they tossed away the last week's worth of clutter.

Staci won because _of course_ he did--which is why Rook even had to take the last-minute call in the first place.

Drunks fighting at the Spread Eagle was nothing new. Drunk Alphas fighting was so common it was almost laughable. Rook doesn't like dealing with it, especially close as he is to his rut, but it's better he handles it than Pratt or Miss Mary. He'd shoved himself in between the two scrapping morons, pulling them apart with snapped orders to "knock it the fuck off."

Close as he was to his rut, he should have known better than to try and order either one of them. The response was immediate and vicious. Rook saw the bright glint of a blade just soon enough to avoid it sinking into his flesh. He turned, a snarl already ripping free, just in time for the knife to glance off his arm, high up on his bicep. It shreds through his uniform and flesh in one motion, sharpened well and strong, and then Hudson's peeling _Rook_ off of the moronic younger Alpha.

It takes him a minute, and Mary May's frantic shove of Omega scent at him, but Rook comes to. Unwraps his hands from around the Alpha's throat finger by finger, hissing out a "you're so fucking lucky. You're under arrest."

He winds up sitting in the back of the SUV, med-kit flipped open on the seat next to him as Rook tries to avoid snapping at the hovering EMS. He was a medic, he knows what the fuck he's doing. He doesn't need to be patched up by a Beta who's staring at him like he expects Rook to start strangling _him_ next. 

Rook blows out a frustrated breath when the Sheriff ambles over towards him, reigning himself in best he can. He's nervous about tomorrow. He's getting ever closer to his rut--for some reason this one is rushing up faster than ever, two weeks shredded down to barely more than one. He never did take well to being assaulted. None of these are reasons to take it out on anyone, especially not Earl, who's been nothing but kind to him since he first started. 

Neither is the absurd Alpha instinct howling in the back of his mind, urging him to go find one of the Seeds, beg them to patch him up instead of some hapless EMS. It's fucking annoying. But it's not a reason to be shitty.

"You alright, son?"

"Yeah, mostly just hit flesh. Didn't even need stitches."

He probably should have gotten a few. Moving when the knife connected with him meant the force was off and the point had dug in deep on the final part of the gash when he'd slapped the other Alpha's arm down. He's probably going to be bleeding for a while over that part, but it's fine. He doesn't want to go to the hospital. He just wants to go home.

Earl eyes him for a moment. "Maybe you oughta take tomorrow _and_ Wednesday off."

"No, I'm fine." Rook lowers his voice, glancing about at the milling crowd of first responders and clients who'd stuck around to watch the aftermath. "I'm already thinking I'll have to use some of my rut leave earlier than expected. Probably over the weekend. This one is...coming on pretty fast. I don't want to leave you any more short-handed than I have to."

"Hudson told me what happened." Earl's voice is casual, light, as is way he tips his hat up and carefully doesn't look at Rook. "Sure you ought not be taking off a bit earlier? You're pushing your scent around quite a bit right now. More so than you usually do, even when you're ticked off something fierce. Might not make it to the weekend like you're planning.”

Rook scrubs a hand through his hair, weighs the consequences of telling the truth versus lying to his boss/mentor. 

He's so tired of lying. It seems like it's all he does lately. To others and himself.

"No, two days should be enough. It's fine, it's just ...this rut is gonna be rough. Never had it before when I wasn't with the Omega I wanted. I'm tetchy and pissed off but that's not an excuse. You can still trust me to do my job. This instance was an outlier and not something I hope to become known for."

"I wasn't trying to say I blamed you." Earl's brows are hiked high, moustache twitching as he holds back a laugh. "Son, if an Alpha had come at me with a blade, I'd have done more than just restrain him by the neck. I'm not worried about you doing your job, I'm worried about _you_."

Great. More super helpful people worried about him. Rook should be flattered.

Should be.

"I'm fine. I'll be alright. This will pass, and I'll be back to normal."

Earl crosses his arms over his chest. 

"Take it you’re not spending it with an Omega at all, then? Two days isn’t enough with a partner. Burns quicker alone, but worse in a lot of ways. Especially if it’s coming on like the freight train you’re saying it is. Might just turn you to ash if you’re not careful, Rook."

"The only Omega I would have would not have me in return." Rook says, picking his words carefully. "So, no. I am not. But it will be fine."

He really needs to stop telling people it will be fine. Because it seems like the more he says it, the worst his life gets.

Earl nods, either satisfied or content to not push any longer. He claps a hand on Rook's uninjured shoulder, tells him to drop by tomorrow to fill out the paperwork for the incident, and pushes a slight order with his casual "go on home, Rook. Get some rest."

He fights with himself the whole way home. He's hurt and he's tired and it feels like there's a clock ticking down inside his chest, counting down until total immolation. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tickticktick--

Boom.

"Rook?"

"I got hurt today at work."

There's a scramble in the background and then John's on the line once more, voice tight and rushed. 

"Where are you? The hospital? How badly are you injured? What happened?"

" _John._ " Rook stresses, forcing a laugh as he shoulders through his front door. "I'm fine. I'm home. Just an idiot with a knife escalating everything. He got me across my arm but it's alright. I didn't even need stitches."

"Are you sure? I can come check in on you. What's your address?"

"John, you remember I'm a medic, right?" Rook's laugh is a bit more genuine this time. "I'm very sure. You don't need to rush out or anything. I just wanted to...I dunno. Wanted to talk to you."

John's quiet on the other end for a second. "You did?"

John had been who he'd settled on with very little debate, in reality. Rook's first thought had been to call Joseph, seeking out the quiet calm of his reassuring words. But Joseph would have insisted on coming to check in on him and Rook's strung too tightly, too worked up, to have any guests tonight. He'd considered Jacob, but Jacob had been in his home just a few days ago, laughing and chatting aimlessly as they created a game plan for tomorrow's dinner. The sight of him, body loose and smile relaxed, lounging in his kitchen and gently mocking Rook's abysmal cooking skills is still too fresh.

Still leaves him wanting more.

John can offer some comfort without pushing too much. John is....safe, more removed. And since John worries more, it'll give Rook a distraction from the throbbing pain and the still boiling anger.

Though when he speaks next, with a whine eeking its way into his voice, Rook revises that line of thinking on the spot.

"I'm always here for you."

"I appreciate that." Rook sighs, throwing himself down on the couch, too tired to even bother taking his uniform off for the moment. "I do. It's just, frustrating, I guess? I don't know how it is for Omegas but when Alphas get close to their rut, it's like you're fighting with yourself. Trying to be well keeled and behave like you know you should when in reality--"

"In reality?" John prompts gently, something odd in his tone. "What's the reality, Rook?"

He doesn't want to say. He's already pissed them off, already upset John with his shithead tendencies when he lost control--and that was _outside_ a rut. Describing what it feels like will probably have John calling an emergency meeting with Joseph and Jacob to figure out how to suddenly have other plans tomorrow night.

But John sounds so willing to listen. And it's so easy to talk to him, to _confess_ , with no fear of being judged or exiled for what's going on in his head.

"I want to _bite_ something." He says in a rush. "It's like there's an ache in my jaw and I know, I _know_ if I get my teeth into something it'll go away. I want to get physical with someone, get touched even if means taking a few punches. When I was younger, my mom always said she could tell when King and I were getting close to a rut because we'd start scrapping at the barest hint of a sideways glance."

Rook pales, feels the blood drain from his face.

"N-not that I'd ever hurt someone who didn't deserve it. That was when I was younger, had less control. I'm in control now and I've never-- _would_ never--hurt an Omega I was with."

"I didn't think you would." John laughs, but there's a tightness there. 

Tight like he doesn't exactly believe what he's saying. Rook pinches the bridge of his nose, blows out a careful sigh. This was a bad idea. Why did he ever think differently?

"And you don't...have an Omega for this rut?"

"No, I've been too busy to find a partner, thought I had more time to be honest, and now it's too late. I don't like jumping into bed with just anyone to satisfy myself and I should start around Friday this week, that doesn't leave me enough time to really get close enough to someone."

"You don't...know any Omegas who would help you through it? As a sort of 'no strings attached' sort of agreement, if you wanted that?" John probes and Rook thinks of his expression when he'd come through the door smelling like Nick and Kim. 

It's on the tip of his tongue to tell him he'd have _him_ if he could. Tell him he'd take him or Jacob or Joseph if any of them ever offered. But he bites it back, grinds his teeth together until his jaw aches so the words stay in his throat. 

Friends. Fucking _friends_.

His cock jerks beneath his zipper, ignoring the hissed words, ignoring everything that isn't the porno playing in his head. John underneath him, the stretch of his spine bending and twisting as Rook mounts up. How sweet he'd sound when he was getting fucked, all little hitched breaths and whines. How tight he'd be, probably unfucked for a while in Eden's Gate and stretching so slow and soft around Rook as he took his time sinking in.

How he'd look knotted up on Rook's cock, eyes blissed out and mouth red, wet, stretched in a smile. 

He'd be good for Rook and Rook would be so, _so_ good to him.

Pipe dream. Impossibility. Something better left to lonely nights and the hot rush of his rut.

"No, none that wouldn't clock me across the face for asking." Rook forces a laugh, forces himself out of his head. "I'll be alright, I've got...uh...stuff."

God-fearing, Rook. He doesn't wanna hear about your fucking fleshlight.

"If you--well, if you find it to be...overwhelming, we tend to stay around the compound during the weekends. All of us, me and Joseph and Jacob. So, we'll be there if you need to come to us."

Right. Eden's Gate is unsuppressed, the entire lot of them. They probably have some sort of--communal prayer or something? A group therapy session for Omegas or Alphas who need the grounding during the rougher times.

An incredibly nice offer. But Rook is going absolutely nowhere fucking near any of the Seeds when he's rutted out of his mind. He'll do something stupid like beg them to take his knot, beg them to let him lay them down and work them over. And then it'll be a good damn thing they're at a church compound because he'll need more than his soul scrubbed clean after the debacle _that_ would be.

They'd probably paint Sinner on the outside of his house and post up flyers all over town with his face of them, warning others about his ways.

"I appreciate that, John. I think I'll be alright, though. Just gonna lock myself in my house for the couple days--it always passes shorter when I'm alone. I'll be just fine come next Monday." Rook thinks about John's voice, the way he seems to be holding himself back. "But...ah...you know, I understand if you guys don't wanna come tomorrow after all. I know some Omegas want to stay away from Alphas when they're near a rut. I didn't know it was gonna come rushing up this fast when I offered, or I wouldn't have."

"No, no, not at all!" John responds fast, too fast, like he's rushing the words out. "We'll still be there provided you're still willing to have us. After being injured..."

"I told you it wasn't that bad." Rook laughs, for real this time. "But, if you're still worried come tomorrow, you can check it out while you're here. If that'll make you feel better."

"I'd feel better if you'd let me come over tonight."

"It's almost eleven at night. You're not driving all the way out here from your place."

"How far away is 'out here', just out of curiosity?"

"Absolutely not." Especially not since his cock hasn't softened the slightest bit between his thighs. "I'm _fine_ , John. I'm going to get something to eat and then I'm going to go pass out. You can check me out tomorrow."

"I will."

"I'm certain of that."

"Rook," John whines, pushes even through the phone, and Rook has to grind his palm into his cock when it responds instantly. 

Fuck. Conversation needs to be over, right now. Right fucking now. 

"I will see you tomorrow. You're going to see me and then you will be fine. But right now, I really just want to sleep."

"If you are...if you're sure?"

He's so far beyond sure.

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow? Jacob knows where I live and when to show up so--"

"I look forward to it." John murmurs warmly and Rook swallows, feeling the kick of his cock responding to the purr there. 

He hurries off the phone, half choking on his goodbyes, and tears at his pants. A moan falls from his lips the second he wraps a hand around his cock, grip too tight, too worked up by hearing John's voice. Why the fuck did he think that was a good idea? Why did he think talking to _any_ of them was a good idea when he was too tired to keep himself in check?

His hand works almost too fast, the scratch of his calluses and the dry rub a grounding balance for the pleasure crawling up his spine. Rook kicks a foot out, braces it on the coffee table, lets the other fall open further. His head tips backwards, loose on his shoulders, and he can't stop the images from flashing through his mind once his eyes drift closed.

John on his knees, between his thighs, Rook's hands cradling his head, sunk into that thick black hair of his. Praise falling from his mouth as John licks around the head of his cock, hand wrapped around Rook's swelling knot. He doesn't know if John would be contained, teasing little kitten licks, or sloppy, drool welling in the corners of his mouth as he chokes on it. Doesn't matter. He wants it, wants anything and everything John could give him. He wants his come on John's face, across his handsome features, marking him just as surely as Rook knows he'd mark him with teeth if given half the chance.

In his mind, the vision shifts. Joseph now, instead of John. Pinned under him, legs clamped around his hips as he sinks in deep. Hair loose from its usual tidy bun, spread across Rook's pillows as he claws at his shoulders. Begs him for more, begs him to knot him. He would, he'd give him everything he asked for and more, as many times as Joseph needed it, asked for it. He'd be sweet, eye contact and careful hands, his scent swirling around until all Rook could smell was himhimhim. Joseph's been religious for longer than his siblings, he's told Rook this. He'd be tight, so tight Rook will probably have to ease him open, stretch him on his fingers until Joseph was one orgasm down and on the road to the next.

Joseph becomes Jacob in an instant. Short red hair taking the place of long brown, a lithe body becoming stocky and solid in a heartbeat. He wants Jacob on top of him, stupid as that sounds. A lot of Omegas don't like it outside of porn, trying it for a moment because they grew up seeing Omegas clawing their way on top only to find it's not as easy as it looks, but Jacob could take it. Could work himself on and off Rook's cock until they were both out of breath, out of words, Rook's fingers leaving bruises on his hips. He'd beg him, he thinks, in a second. Beg him to take him inside, beg him to take his knot, beg until he ran out of breath and had nothing more than Jacob's name on his lips. 

The three become one just as Rook clamps his teeth together around thin air, desperate for something more solid between them. All three of them before him, one cock in his mouth and one in each hand as he brings them off. Switching between them whenever they want, whenever one pulls harsh at his hair. Letting them all push and shove, take whatever they need, without so much as a breath of complaint on his lips. 

Rook comes with his mouth dropped open, no name because he can't settle on one. His spare hand drops; wraps so tight around his knot the knuckles go white. It's nothing like an Omega's hold, not even close, but it works, especially with the visions still dancing in his mind. He should feel guilty, should feel terrible he's sitting here thinking about three brothers, three church leader brothers, when he's got his hand around his cock. 

Except all he feels is a settling sense of right. A sense of coming home. 

Rook barely drags himself upstairs, tossing his uniform into the corner and falling into bed naked. He's asleep almost as fast as his head hits the pillow and his dreams only ratchet him tighter, higher. The brothers around him, touching him, grabbing and _taking_. He has to jack off before he's fully awake, cock so thick with blood it can't stand upright, knot already starting to swell by the time he opens his eyes. 

He resists jacking off in the shower again, glaring down at his cock. Fucking ruts. The week leading up to them is miserable, especially if he doesn't have a planned partner. It's like his body punishes him for it by making him feel like he's sixteen again, popping wood at the slightest reasoning. He should have been fine this week, he doesn't have the slightest fucking clue why his rut is coming early. Maybe he should call his dad later, ask what the hell is going on. 

Rook dresses, makes his way into town, and nearly groans when he sees a familiar white truck with an even more familiar cross on the side parked in front of the general store. He's not ready to see any of the Seeds this early in the morning, not when the memories of last night are so fresh in his head. 

But the next closest grocery store is another thirty-minute drive. And Rook's got to get meat which won't keep in the Montana heat, not for how long he'd have to drive.

He steps inside the store like he's stepping into a hostage situation. Neck twisting as he looks every which way, footsteps as purposefully light as he can make them as he sneaks through the aisles. Rook nearly pounces on one of the poor stockers who turns to greet him with a smile, making a cutting motion over his throat and hissing out a "quiet! Shhh!" He gets a strange look but he hurries off, gathering what's scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in his hand as fast and as silently as he can.

Rook's just placed the second to last item in his basket--garlic powder instead of the bulbs to grind himself because, despite Jacob's insistence it doesn't taste the same, Rook doesn't have the first clue how to even _open_ garlic, let alone crush it--when there's a sudden stop of footsteps behind him. He winces, eyes slamming closed, seconds before gentle fingertips touch the center of his back. It feels like he's been branded, too hot even through the layers he's wearing, and the cedar-mint smell nearly makes him faceplant into the shelves when it swells over him.

"Rook? I spoke to John--are you alright?"

Right. Because of course they talked to one another, they were brothers. There probably wasn't a thing between them that went unsaid.

He plasters a smile across his face, begs his body to behave itself as he turns to face Joseph's pinched expression.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, no, totally fine! Was really just a flesh wound, no harm done, don't even know why John bothered mentioning it."

"Rook," Joseph steps closer, trapping Rook between his body and the racks of spices behind him, voice dropped low. "I can smell blood. I know you've showered since, which means it's fresh. Are you still bleeding?"

A bit, yes. He wasn't lying when he said the deeper end should've taken stitches. Butterfly bandages can do a lot, but they can't stop blood flow like a good needle and thread can. But there is less today than yesterday so Rook figures he doesn't need to re-think his stance on the old thread 'n' pull. 

"Yeah, but just a little bit. I promise it's alright. I've had worse."

"Show me?" Joseph's hand lands on his wrist, the slightest push behind his scent, and Rook couldn't have denied him a thing in this world at this point. 

He sets his basket by his feet, fingers a bit numb on the buttons of his flannel, working them open halfway down until he can peel down one shoulder. It should feel absurd, undoing his clothes in the middle of the baking aisle at the local grocery store, but all Rook can focus on is the flash of pain in Joseph's eyes as he gently touches the bandaging Rook put on that morning. There's a bloom of red in the middle of the sterile white, which he figured there might be since he was doing as much reaching and grabbing as he was to get all his stuff quickly. 

It seems almost _right_ to have Joseph's fingers near it on the gauze, so close he's a twitch away from touching it. Like this is what's supposed to be, even in an absurd place like this. Joseph taking care of his wounds, checking on them, checking on _him_.

"I'm okay." Rook repeats, clears his throat when his voice comes out as little more than a rasp. "Joseph, I'm fine. It happens. All in the line of duty when it comes to drunken idiots with more liquor in them than sense."

"We forbid alcohol for more reasons than religious." Joseph agrees, swaying impossibly closer. "When John told me, I--I confess, Jacob had to stop me from checking in on you. Hid my keys overnight, even. It was likely for the best, at the moment, nothing could have stopped me from getting to you had my brothers not been there to ground me."

Probably to pray for him. For once, Rook doesn't think about it with a scoff. The idea of Joseph caring enough that he was ready to tear out of wherever he'd been to come offer comfort is...overwhelming. Rook feels his knees buckle just slightly at the wave of affection that rushes over him.

Not good. Affection can lead so quickly to lust when he's this close to a rut and Joseph's scent seems almost impossibly strong now, wrapping around him like a warm blanket on a cold morning. 

"I see now why so many people flock to you." Joseph looks a bit shocked, eyes wide when they flicker from the bandage to Rook's face. "You're kind, Joseph. Down to the bone, soul deep. You have so much good in you, it's like a fire to moths. I can't think of a person better suited to lead Eden's Gate, you know? To help all those people like you do."

"I did not--I was chosen for this life. I have always known this was my destiny." Joseph laughs softly, so soft it's little more than an exhale. "Though it is pleasant to know I am doing a good job of what I have been commanded to do."

"Guess God knew what he was doing when he made you."

"God has a plan for all of us, Rook." Joseph tells him, something in his gaze that makes Rook feel like he's in a pew, hearing a sermon that comes from the heart. "It might not be the plan we expect or prepare for...but it is there for a reason. And God will guide us along the path He has set. We must only have faith."

"Right. Yeah, of course." Rook bobs his head, nods along because--what the fuck does he say to that? He's out or practice in religious teachings and Joseph is a verifiable well of them, drawing a reason or rhyme from everything that happens around him. "Well, I should be--should get going. I wanna be able to clean before you guys start my way later."

"If you need assistance--"

"Nope!" Rook shakes his head so hard the world tips around him for a moment. "All good. I _am_ capable of cleaning my own house, I'm the one who dirtied it up, after all. And I know if I let you come help clean, you'll try to help cook. And then it's not really me paying you guys back, is it?"

"You know me all too well, it would seem." Joseph's smile spreads slow but warm, eyes kind behind the ever present yellow. "When did that happen, I wonder? I'm usually far more opaque in my intentions."

His hand is gentle when it taps into the center of Rook's chest, the flash of a wink spreading warmth through Rook's belly.

"I wonder, sometimes, if I could hide anything from you. Perceptive as you are. It would seem God planned well to make you an officer of peace."

"It's not always peace, but I don't mind when it's not." Rook shrugs, uncomfortable with the perception in Joseph's gaze. "Either way, I should be...y'know...off."

"Of course." Joseph steps back, creates space, allows for Rook's nose to pick up something other than his gorgeously encompassing scent. "Until later, then."

Rook gets six steps down the aisle, nearly rounding the corner, before Joseph calls again.

"And Rook?"

"Hm?"

He doesn't turn around, he can't. His body is going haywire, already straining back towards Joseph, like a line pulled taut on a reel. 

"If I could leave you with a thought? We do not always know God's plans for us until we are embroiled in them. Our ignorance to what should be does not mean it will _cease_ to be. There is a reason for everything that happens. I would...urge you to think on the reasoning. If you had a moment to do so."

"I'll think about that, Joseph."

He will not. If God has a plan for him, it's probably just more abject nonsense. Probably just more pining for things he wants until he settles for what he's got, which is his job and his friends and his family. He knows older Alphas, ones like Earl and other friends of his parents, who aren't chasing after mates any longer. Accepting their lot in life and still living happy days despite not having a partner.

Something twists in his gut when he thinks of waking up to the same person every single day, like the very thought is repulsive to his inner Alpha. The only time it purrs, the only thought that contents it in the slightest way, is the thought of waking up to the Seeds. Spending his day pulled between the three of them.

No Alpha in this world has three mated Omegas, no matter what people say. So, he needs to get rid of these thoughts and fast.

His dad doesn't answer when he calls, probably busy with some patient or other. Rook drives a few more minutes in silence before he scoops the phone up once more. 

"I have a job, you know."

"And yet, you always manage to answer when I call."

"Well, to be fair...if I'm on reserve it's a lot of waiting for something to happen." King laughs, a shuffle in the background like he's moving around papers. "Right now, I'm stuck looking through flight test results. I wouldn't let half of these idiots taxi down the runway, let alone catch air."

"Have you ever...had a rut come early?" Rook changes the subject before King can start a rant on how the requirements of pilots have eased and the passing score nowadays is so much lower than it should be and "these damn kids better get off my metaphorical lawn".

"How early are we talking?"

"Just a week. Thought I had two, I was _supposed_ to have two. But I'm thinking I’m gonna be taking the weekend off and it feels like I should be taking off sooner."

"And you're sure you don't have any Omegas sniffing around you?"

"I have Omega _friends_." Rook stresses, "but none with romantic intentions. And I've always been around them, even for past ruts. Nothing has really changed."

Except him running into the Seeds more often but that's not something he's going to tell King. His brother is a dog with a bone on a subject he thinks he knows more about and Rook's already had one intervention this month.

"Usually the only thing that can toss an Alpha into an early rut is an Omega chasing their tail. Something about the pheromones, something subtle we can't smell. Like our Alphas know when there's a potential lay hanging around even if we can't figure it out."

"Oh, classy." Rook wrinkles his nose. "I don't think that's it. And none of the Omegas I know are near a heat either, which is what usually screws up my schedule."

"Something's setting you off, I can hear it in your voice. You swear, up and down, hand to God, you're not missing something? Even if it's not an Omega you're interested in, if they want you they can push you without you even knowing about it. Happened to me a few times. I didn't figure it out until hindsight kicked in."

"I have...Omegas that I want."

"Wait, repeat?" King sounds a bit thrown and Rook winces as he grabs for his bags, knocking the truck door shut with his hip, phone trapped between shoulder and ear. "I didn't just imagine the plural there?"

"The brothers? That I went to dinner with? I want them." Rook kicks his door shut with his heel, harder than he intends. "I want them so fucking bad, King. And they're fucking _everywhere_. I had one in my house Friday night, I talked to another one last night, and then I just ran into the last one at the store a few minutes ago."

"Shit." King laughs and _laughs_. "Why the fuck didn't you say that earlier? What happened to 'they're just friends, King'?"

"Because they don't want me like that. So, there's no point in sitting here and telling you about some stupid ass pipe dream of mine."

King snorts, "more like wet dream by the sound of it. Look, that kinda shit can fuck with you. Your Alpha doesn't give a single shit about whether or not the Omegas want it. If it thinks you're gonna have to satisfy more than one, it'll send your hormones into a damn tizzy. Ratchets you up until you're licking the ceiling because it's pumping you full of everything you'll need to satisfy every Omega you're wanting. How did you not know this?"

"How _would_ I know this?! I've never wanted more than one Omega in my life. How do _you_ know about this?" Rook sets the bags down in the kitchen, boosting himself up until he's got his ass planted on the counter, feet drumming against the cupboards. 

"Military men are out of their fucking minds on leave. Wanting everything that looks at them twice. Had a few in my unit lose their damn heads with hormones because their body was prepping to give it to every Omega they wanted. It's something way back, primal bullshit, making sure we can--well, spread as much seed as we need to, I guess."

"Disgusting." Rook comments as he thinks on it. "So, this is my own damn fault? For not being able to settle on one?"

"And why _can't_ you settle on one? You're never one to waffle, Rook. Never seen you so much as flirt with two people at the same time."

"It feels...wrong." Rook raises a hand, rubs it against the ache in his chest that starts at the thought of choosing one to forgo the other two. "Like it won't be enough with just one. Like there'll always be something missing."

"Shit, bro." King exhales quietly, a note of pity in his voice. "You've got it bad, huh? How come you didn't talk to me about this?"

"I figured it would go away. One of those fleeting interests. But it's only gotten worse." Rook thinks back, to how he'd felt the barest spark of interest back when the Seeds had invited him to dinner.

It had caught fire inside him. Turned into a blazing flame that was eating him up, consuming him. Fast, like the wildfires that sometimes start during the dry times of the year. Crawling over everything its path until it's all ash, scouring the land for new growth in the aftermath.

"And it clearly hasn't."

"No. And I don't even want to try and court one of them because, on the one in a million chance they even would give me a shot or that kinda thing is permitted, I don't think I could pick one over the others with a gun to my head."

"Permitted?" King scoffs. "What the fuck? Are they underage or some bullshit?"

"They're...church leaders? Joseph is a Father and the others are like...shit, I dunno, whatever the equivalent of people a step under a Father would be. Heralds? No, that doesn't sound right." Rook blows out a breath. "Whatever. Point is, they run a huge commune up here. Recovery center, for addicts and the like. Helping people find the right path through religion. Jacob basically runs the veterans center too. And John's kinda the lawyer for the whole of Hope County, helping people with everything from divorces and custody fights to property disputes."

"I know a couple of really religious sorts, but they've got mates. Don't know any Father's save for the one that runs around with one of the units. Could ask him I suppose." Rook can _hear_ the arched brow in his brother's voice. "Though that word choice has me a bit riled. Commune? What--like a fucking cult or some shit?"

"They're not a cult."

"Are you sure though? Part of being a cult is pretending to not be a cult."

"Oh my god," Rook rolls his eyes. "You're such a pain in my ass. They. Are not. A cult."

"What's their church called?"

Rook winces, knows what's coming. "Uh...Eden's Gate. The Project at Eden's Gate."

"Yeah, okay." King sucks his teeth. "They're a cult. Might be a good cult, though. But still. Definitely cult-ey-esque."

"Kingsley Stevens, I'm going to kick your ass."

"Hey, don't get an attitude with me! Don't make me take this upcoming leave to fly down to bumfuck Montana and beat the shit outta you."

"You've got leave coming up?" Rook changes the subject before they can start scrapping, knowing the rut coming closer isn't going to help his temper in that regard. "Are you heading home to mom and dad?"

"I _was_ actually, legitimately, thinking of coming to visit. I haven't seen you in almost two years, never even seen where you live now. Got me feeling like my baby brother is growing up without me."

"I am a grown ass man." Rook rolls his eyes, checks the clock on the stove. "And I need to get going, I've gotta clean before dinner. But...hey...if you do wanna come, you know you've always got a room here."

"We'll see. I want to, but I'm not the wilderness type. Probably shit myself if I saw a bear in real life."

Rook laughs and that keeps the mood light for the rest of the goodbyes. He thinks about King's words as he straightens up, the house slowly but surely becoming presentable. If it's his own fault he's strung as tightly as he is, then there's really no cure for it. He can't seem to _stop_ thinking about the Seeds, let alone try and focus it down to one of them. Hell, he'd probably overwhelm the one trying to switch tracks like that. And since _none_ of them seem interested in anything more than friendship, it's unlikely that he could even just choose whichever one would have him.

Whatever. Like Joseph said, there's a plan out there. And until Rook figures out what it is, he's just gonna keep on rolling down the path.

Or maybe tripping and stumbling down the path. Either way.


	9. A Third Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm back babies!) Cult or no cult, Joseph is still Joseph.

"I hope you know we're under Joseph's express orders to not seduce him. So spending an hour in the shower getting ready is really just overkill."

"I hope _you_ know," John slides the shower door open, poking his head out to glare at Jacob's back, "that I have four other bathrooms in this house. There is no reason for us to share."

"I like your shaving cream." Jacob turns, flicking his knife down towards the sink and leaving a line of cream behind. "Doesn't irritate."

"And you're giving _me_ shit for primping." John ducks back inside the shower, continues to scrub the shampoo from his hair, calling over the spray. "What do you think Rook uses? Should I give him some, do you think he'd like it?"

"I think you've given him enough."

"Everything I gave him was to replace something he'd broken or ruined while helping me with the house! He refused to let me buy him anything more than that."

"Oh, I remember. You bitched and moaned for _days_ about it." 

There's a clunk on the shower glass, like Jacob's rapped his knuckles against it. 

"Wait until Christmas. Might take it a bit better if 'tis the season."

"By Christmas, he should be _ours_." John snaps. "And then I can buy him as much as I please, _whenever_ I please."

"Joseph's gonna fuss at you for it."

"Joseph can bite me."

"Joseph wants to know what he's done to incite such chatter behind his back."

John yelps, nearly falls trying to shut the water off and climb from the stall in one motion. He wraps a towel around his waist, drips onto the bathmat below as he and Jacob sheepishly glance at each other and then at their brother, lounging in the bathroom doorway. He doesn't look offended, rather bemused by the whole thing, smile tugging at his mouth that reaches up to his eyes. He's still dressed in the loose white clothing he wears when he works with the members of the flock in recovery, the fall of fabric catching and holding his scent so it seems even stronger, likely calming any frazzled nerves.

John was once told his scent was good for enticing. Like a poison set out to lure unsuspecting prey into their deaths. He'd been told it was a sin, that it was pervasive, tempting others. If his scent is good for making people follow, Joseph's is good for making people stay in place, locked there by the sheer comfort he exudes. Telling everyone it is safe around him, that _he_ is a safe place to set their flag. Jacob's scent is a war that even John doesn't always win. It's subtle but dangerous, like the afterbite of too much spice in a dish that's going to set the tongue on fire immediately following a swallow. A warning that despite his status, Jacob is hardly a helpless thing.

They make quite the damn group all together, John will admit that much.

Follow, stay, but take care. Behave.

"Are you _sure_ we can't seduce him?" John whines, pouting when Joseph immediately shakes his head. "But he has no clue we're interested--he is though! He wants at least one of us, I know that now."

"How?" Jacob twists his head. "How do you know?"

"He called me and complained about his rut. Would you talk about your heat with an Alpha you weren't interested in?" When Jacob shakes his head immediately, John slides pleading eyes over to Joseph. "Can we not simply just...tell him we're interested? Surely that's not interfering with the plans in place. We're not seducing, we're just...informing."

"You're particularly skilled at finding loopholes," Joseph allows with a tip of his head. "But no, John. He must offer his hand first, extend it before we can take it."

John doesn't fight it further, but he wants to. Especially wants to make a snide comment when Joseph starts unbuttoning his shirt once John has slipped by into his bedroom. Clearly Joseph is fighting against the commands as well, otherwise he'd be in the bathroom downstairs getting ready instead of amongst John's more expensive toiletries. He doesn't begrudge his brother's trying to take a bit of extra care, God knows this isn't some race between the three of them to see who can get Rook in bed the fastest. They're all nervous about this, on edge, trying to present the best possible image at this wonderfully given gift of a second chance for all of them to be together in one place.

Even if it came at the expense of Rook thinking they were upset with him.

He's just regarding his closet when Jacob comes out of the bathroom, wiping at his throat with a towel. 

"What do you think I should wear?"

"Clothing." is the unimpressed response that comes back at him. 

John glares over his shoulder.

"Thank you for your help. Please get out."

Jacob waves at him as he leaves and a thought occurs, John tracking behind to shove his head out the door and call down the hall after Jacob's retreating form. 

"You're not wearing _that_ , right? You're going to change?"

"I'm going to put on a shirt?" Jacob pauses, turns to arch a brow at him. "But no, otherwise, this is it."

John gapes at him for a moment before waving a helpless hand. Jacob doesn't usually wear much in the way of better-end clothing, content with his jeans and plain t-shirts, usually under his military jacket when the weather permits another layer. He's got on a _nicer_ pair, since John can't see any visible stains or holes, but it's still just...blue jeans. 

Jacob folds his arms over his broad chest, scars against scars, seemingly content to let John end this bizarre stand off at his leisure.

"I know you have nice clothes. I've _bought_ you nice clothes."

"I have exactly one suit for weddings and funerals that don't require my dress blues. And then I have those uncomfortable ass shirts and pants you and Joseph make me wear on holidays. I hate all of it and I'm not wearing it over to Rook's house."

"We want to impress him!" John hisses.

"I am too damn old to worry about whether or not how I dress defines who I am." Jacob waves a hand at himself. "You think Rook's the type to judge me based on how I dress, anyhow?"

"Well, no, of course not, but--"

"Then I am going now and I'm gonna throw a shirt on. I'll even find one without holes if you'll stop bitching at me about it."

John resists the urge to flip him off as Jacob turns without further discussion, striding down the hall and shutting the door to the house proper behind him. He ducks back inside the room just as the shower cuts off and is still looking through his closet when Joseph steps from the now steaming bathroom, hair dripping onto his shoulders and towel firmly in place around his waist. John tries again, hopeful that at least--going by the white button up neatly folded on his bed--one of his brothers will understand his need to dress up a bit for the occasion.

"Any advice on clothing?"

"Something nice. Perhaps that blue shirt you favor? It brings out your eyes."

"Thank you." John breathes, rifling through until he can pull it from the inside, taking the vest hanging near it as well. "Jacob was patently unhelpful in this regard."

"Jacob is set in his ways. We cannot expect him to change everything about himself simply because he's attracted to someone."

"You being that nice to him only encourages his dick-ish behavior!" John calls when the bathroom door shuts, turning to place his clothes on the empty space where Joseph's once sat. 

He's looking at himself in the mirror when Joseph steps free of the bathroom, hair neatly pinned back and glasses in their proper place. John drops his hands, tucking them into the back pockets of his pants when Joseph's eyes light on how much of his chest is already exposed by the loosened buttons. In John's defense, it's still buttoned above the vest. So it's not totally inappropriate.

Granted, Joseph's is buttoned flush with his throat _and_ covered in a vest. But...well...

"John," Joseph sighs, hand already raising like he's going to grab for the bridge of his nose.

"I'm just dressing comfortably! You know I hate things around my throat." John defends, wincing when Joseph does at the immediate connection that's made between his words and his past.

"I expect all of us to contain ourselves. Especially if Rook is as close to his rut as he said he was when you two spoke. Considering that he's also been injured..."

"I'm not going to do anything. I just, honestly, wanted to look nice for him. I wanted _all_ of us to look nice for him." John curls a lip, thinking of Jacob's stupid jeans. "Despite some efforts in conflict with my own."

Joseph strides towards him, cups a hand over John's nape and brings their foreheads together gently. John breathes in his scent, lets it calm him, wash over him like the waves of the river do when they baptize new members of the flock. It eases him in the same way, comforts something inside him that had searched for family for so long. For a purpose more than using others to climb his way to the top and rot there in his loneliness.

"I know you are eager. Desperate, even. And I know it's because your heat is fast approaching us."

"I want him to service me." John raises a hand, grips gently at Joseph's sleeve like he's a child again. "I don't want to do it alone, not when he's so close, Joseph. Not when I know it could be so much better with him there."

"We will be there for you if he is not. Jacob and I, as well as the members of Eden's Gate, just as we have been before. This is not the first heat you've had since you've met Rook. It will all be alright, John."

"But if he could be--"

"If it is not _time_ , then it is not time." Joseph tells him evenly, but there's steel there. "John. I love you, I do, you are my brother. But I will not allow you to sabotage yourself because sin forces your hand before God's plan is set into action. Rook will come to us, I have seen and been assured of this. We must be patient. Or you risk the gates of Eden shutting you out, unwelcoming in response to what you have allowed to taint your soul."

John's eyes slipped closed, fear deep in his stomach. God forgives, he does, but what He has commanded must come to pass. John cannot-- _will not_ \--ruin his chances at joining Rook even in the afterlife for the paltry trade of a faster way into his bed. Joseph is rolling waves of concern, of affectionate worry, but there is a unbending determination there that tells John he will spare no costs to assure John obeys.

"Yes, Joseph." He nods, swallows thickly. "I understand."

"I love you, John." Joseph pets a soft hand over his head for a moment. "I know how much you're suffering. But I want this to go right."

"Yes, Joseph."

He steps away, leaving a space between them that seems too cold in comparison. 

"I'll leave you to finish preparing." Joseph smiles, eyes glittering, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "And I will go to try and chide Jacob into better clothing."

It doesn't take John long, feeling a bit lonely with the sudden lack of his brothers in his space, and he's soon trotting down the stairs.

Only to come to a full screeching stop at the landing. 

"Absolutely not." He snaps, watching Jacob try and latch Judge's collar while he dances in place. "He is not coming with us."

"And why not?" Jacob doesn't bother looking at him. "Judge, damnit, stand still. If you wanna go see Rook, you better sit."

John doesn't know if it's Rook's name or the command, but Judge obediently plops his butt down, tongue lolling out as he grins at John.

"Joseph!" John cries, stomping down the last few steps to the floor. " _Joseph!_ "

"I hear my name being called with frantic tone." Joseph calls from somewhere deeper in the house. "Jacob, are you being mean to John?"

"He's trying to bring Judge!" John all but screeches back.

There's a pause and then Joseph's footsteps head toward them, pace quick if the taptaptap is any indication. He comes to a stop next to John, looking at where Jacob is now untangling the yellow 'approach with permission' vest Judge wears when they go out in public. The wolf wouldn't hurt a soul, unless Jacob commanded it or there was a threat to be eliminated, having failed his guard training spectacularly. But he's solid muscle, able to knock even a fearsome Alpha like Rook onto his ass, and Jacob likes to hold him in place when younger kids approach for pets since Judge gets excited over the prospect of loving on other 'pups'.

"I do not think the invitation to dinner extended to your companion." Joseph says gently, Jacob ignoring them both as he coaxes Judge's legs through the straps.

"Rook loves Judge. He'll be happy to have him around." Jacob tells them firmly. "He probably expects I'll bring him anyhow."

"Jacob," Joseph crosses the floor to perch on the edge of Jacob's chair, one hand on his back. "I know that you are nervous. I know that you are worried about this dinner going well just as much as John or I. But Judge would be...a distraction. Pull Rook's attention away, split it more than it will already be. Is that something you're willing to accept?"

Jacob's hands go loose, the harness plummeting to the floor where Judge instantly steps out of it, pawing it across the floor with a scrape like he's eager to get it away from him. He sighs, drags his hands down his face, and John crosses as well when Judge whines and shoves at his elbow with his snout. Judge is more adept at sensing Jacob's changing moods, when his thoughts get to be too much.

He'd failed as a guard dog, but as a companion slash service dog, he does _amazing_.

"I dunno. I'm torn between wanting all of the attention I can get and wanting none of it. Like if Rook looks at me wrong my heat is gonna come too early."

"You are--" Joseph goes a bit pale, blinking quickly and swallowing. "You're nearing your heat? I thought you were behind John."

Jacob shrugs, purposefully loose and not looking anywhere near any of them as he pets at Judge's head.

"Felt a twang today, had the Doc check me out since I was already at the compound. He said it's coming within the next few weeks. So not close...but yeah."

"We'll be in heat at the same time." John realizes, counting off in his head. "I'm only a few weeks out myself."

"Brothers," Joseph rises from his chair, an expression on his face John has only seen before in the church. "Do you have _any_ idea what this means?"

He and Jacob shake their heads but John's not even sure Joseph is paying attention to them. He's wandering, feet seeming to take him wherever they please as he tips his head up and presses his palms together beneath his chin. His eyes are nearly fever bright behind his glasses when he looks back at them, expression absolutely _rapturous_.

" _This_ is God's plan. _This_ is what the Voice told us would come. You both in your heat at once, needing no one but Rook. He will be ours by then, this is a sign of that!" He extends his hands and John moves without thinking, taking one palm just as Jacob takes the other. Joseph clutches them tight, pulls them in close. "This is...this is our reckoning. My heat was early, I had questioned why but now I know. Now I _see_. The Lord has given me a clear mind, untwisted by the need of a heat, so that I may guide you all. So that I may be the balancing point I was always commanded, _chosen_ to be."

"God works in mysterious ways." John says quietly, a grin forming despite himself, energy flowing through him until he's practically bouncing on his toes. "This is it! We're so close! Tonight, something must happen tonight to set it in motion!"

"Well, hell," Jacob breathes, a smile on his face unlike anything John has ever seen, cautiously optimistic like he's opening a gift he already knows the contents of. "Guess I better not bring Judge then, huh?"

They all laugh, bright and endless, spurred by the shared sense of a puzzle piece clicking into place. _Tonight_. Everything went wrong so that it could go oh-so-right. God guides their lives, has always guided their lives, and they are finally seeing the fruit of a tree planted by unsure hands. They put their faith in the plan and it has come to bear, more bountiful than any of them had ever assumed, and John is practically _burning_ with the need to leave.

"We should go. Right now! We should go and see him."

"We've still got almost two hours before he said to get there for dinner." Jacob reminds him, letting go of Joseph to tip his wrist, eyes bouncing to his watch and back to John. "It's barely a thirty minute drive and that's taking every back road and following the speed limit. We can't leave yet."

"Joseph," John whines but is immediately shushed, Joseph throwing an arm around his shoulders to press a messy but affectionate kiss to his head. 

"I know, I know. Patience, brother. We are so close, let us not do anything now to ruin the path we walk."

John deflates slightly, feet flat on the floor once more, before he brightens.

"I should call him! Maybe...check on how his arm is? You said it was still bleeding, right, Joseph?"

"Rook is likely preparing the dinner right at this moment." Joseph takes his phone from his hand gently. "We do not want to interfere. I am certain he will still allow you to check it once we arrive."

"Here, go take Judge for a walk while I make dessert." Jacob tells him, tossing over the whistle he usually wears to call the dogs of Eden's Gate back to his side during drills. "You both could use the energy release."

"I just got dressed in nice clothes." John frowns, but he slips the necklace over his head anyhow, letting the charm thump heavy against his chest. "Come on, then, you great, big, huge, hulking mess of drool. Let's go."

Judge stops on his way towards the door to nuzzle up against John's thigh--and leave a wet spot of drool against the fabric once he passes by. 

His brothers, predictably, don't pay any attention to his shrieking half-hearted beratements as he chases Judge out the door. Though John is fairly certain he hears both of them laughing at him. Well, jokes on them. Now he has to change--which just means one more last chance to dress to impress.

And John Seed _always_ impresses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beta is here! ...you guys see this crap? She comes back from vacation ON POSTING DAY and no warning posts with like nothing to say. Honestly she doesn't even know I broke back into her account to post this note to you guys 'cause _I_ love you guys. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and I hope a caught everything in my first couple of read throughs since I didn't get a final look at it before _she posted it_. I know you are here for Momo and her story but I just wanted the chance to say "bye" and "thanks for having me" .... leaving notes on her chapters has been a lot of fun.  
>  ~[Ri ](http://rithebeta.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, it's dinner time! <3

Rook's just pulling the pot roast out of the oven, setting it over on the countertop, when the doorbell rings. He double checks to make sure he's switched it off, minutely adjusting the towel he'd draped over the potatoes to keep them warm during the wait, before he hurries to the front hall. There's a split second, before he reaches for the knob, that Rook smooths his shirt down, brushes his hair back off his forehead, and winces at the way he can feel sweat already staining under his arms.

"Hey, welcome! Come on in!"

"We are a bit early," Joseph glances over at John like he's laying blame. "We apologize if that complicates any plans."

"Naw, s'okay." Rook pauses when Jacob hands him a covered glass dish. "I just have to throw the salad together real fast. What's this?"

"Dessert." Jacob flattens a palm on the top when Rook tries to lift one corner. "And it's a surprise. I'll take it back if you keep trying to peek."

"Ruin allll my fun." Rook drawls, grinning when Jacob tries to tug the dish back. "No! I promise, I'll be a good noodle!"

Jacob shoves at him lightly, herding him into the kitchen, where John quickly lets the towel fall back onto the bowl Rook had mashed the potatoes in. He folds his hands behind his back, smiling benignly as he takes a casual step away from the counter.

"Well, butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, huh?" Rook teases him, setting the dish carefully aside before striding to poke at Joseph, who is currently regarding the pot roast. "Hey, don't even think about it. I said I'm making the dinner and that includes all the prep."

He points to the three bar stools lined up under the lip of the island. 

"Sit, all of you guys. Tonight is about me serving you and I don't trust a single one of you to comply unless I put you somewhere."

It so easy in a lot of ways. Like whatever in him was howling and throwing a fit is completely settled with their presence in his home. A snarling dog curled content on the rug in front of the fire. Rook feels a bit like he's walking on air, giddy like a kid again as he fishes around in the fridge for the salad ingredients, the Seeds settling onto the stools compliantly.

Until John slides off not so compliantly and rounds the island to block his way back to it. 

“Your wound.” He prompts with crossed arms. “You promised me I could take a look at it.”

“It’s fine.” Rook says, trying not to drop all the items he’s got against his chest. “I told you it wasn’t bad.”

“You _promised_.”

“He was bleeding again this morning.” Joseph says from where he’s still obeying Rook’s command to sit. “He let me see the bandage at the store and the blood was fresh.”

“ _Rook._ ”

Alright, yeah, that’s a whine. And Rook has never been good at denying whining Omegas much of anything, let alone pretty Omegas like John with wide eyes and concerned frowns.

He sighs, raises his arms slightly like John could possibly miss what he’s holding. 

“Let me set this stuff down first?”

John’s ever so helpful, pulling things from his arms and setting them down on the counter--too close to Jacob and Joseph’s hands. Rook points a finger at them once he’s empty handed, waving it with as much confidence as he can muster while John works on the buttons of his shirt.

“Do not touch the things. I said I was making dinner. I’m watching the both of you.”

Joseph folds his hands in front of him placidly but Jacob rolls his eyes, airily telling him to “shut up and focus more on John.”

Who, at this point, has his shirt gaping open and is carefully easing it down off one shoulder. The tank top underneath does nothing to hide the bandage and Rook sends up a brief prayer to whoever might be listening that the gauze is clean and the tickling ache of a bleeding wound isn’t visible through the fresh bandaging. 

Not that it seems to ease John’s sharp worry any.

“You said it was a knife. It was clean? No infections? Did you take any precautionary antibiotics?”

John’s fingers are careful around the edges, lifting the tape from his skin by increments, so slow and cautious the pull of it doesn’t even register. 

“I cleaned it really well.” Rook tries, sighing when Jacob chimes in--from where he’s moving the ingredients around on the counter, god _damnit_ \--”still could’ve been dirty. Can’t get all the bacteria out no matter how hard you scrub if it got into your body.”

“I rescind my earlier words. Jacob, _please_ do something other than encourage this.”

He’s torn from scowling at Jacob’s huffed laugh when John peels back the bandage corner he’d freed and a sharp exhale whistles through his teeth. His brows are down low, drawn tight, and his fingers are feather light when they trace along the very edge of the slash. Rook’s been keeping an eye on it under orders from the Sheriff and it’s clean, already starting to heal and scab over.

“See?” He points out, voice gentle. “No redness, no heat. No infection.”

“So you didn’t get antibiotics then.” John grumps at him, eyes calculating. “You sued the man, right? You should have. This high means he was aiming higher, right, Jacob?”

Jacob, ever so _helpful_ , hums an assenting note. “Yeah. Looks like he was aiming more around the neck. Rook must’ve twisted at the right time to make it fall.”

“He got a nice charge of assaulting an officer along with his drunk and disorderly.” Rook reaches up, grips John’s wrist, can _feel_ the anger that’s sparking in his eyes. “John. I’m fine. I promise. I tried to order him and, close as I am to my rut, it came out sharp and challenging. I should’ve known better and I got a nice reminder of that.”

“He pulled a _knife_ on you.” John hisses, head snapping up. “Order or no, that’s absurd. That’s over-reaction. What if you hadn’t moved in time? What if he’d hit where he was aiming?”

Rook lets go, hovers his hand for a split second before he cups it against John’s cheek. His eyes instantly soften, head tipping into the hold, contained and subdued.

“It happens. Not often, but it does, and I’m trained for it. This’ll heal. If it makes you feel better, I’ll start being more cautious?”

“And next time you’ll let me come over and help you bandage it up.” John nods before Rook can even respond, conversation finished before it began. “Great. Wonderful. I’m glad we could come to an agreement on this.”

“John.” Joseph chides from where he’s still sitting and being the only brother who’s behaving himself. “Let Rook re-dress. You’ve assured all of us that he is fine. Hovering over him only risks insulting his competency in his medical skills.”

“Oh, no, it’s--” Rook tries to protest but John is gone in an instant, face just a bit pale, backing away towards his seat. 

“Next time.” He drives the point home with a waving finger once he settles between his brothers. “I don’t forget.”

“I’m sure.” Rook smooths the bandage back into place, doing his buttons back up with hands that are shaking in the face of such overwhelming concern.

Or, maybe, it could be the way he can feel three sets of eyes watching his every move. Probably looking for a wince or limited range of motion. It stings a bit, pulls at the wound, when he spreads his hands wide once he’s done to show he’s alright. But Rook keeps his face a pleasant mask and the Seeds have no choice but to let the subject drop.

Though John in particular looks displeased about it.

"So, what have you guys been up to all day?"

Distract. Change the subject. Get the damn salad ingredients away from Jacob’s still twitchy hands. Rook could mix a salad in his sleep and it’s nice to be able to do something with his hands and shake off the excess energy. John being so close, so concerned, with his brothers like sentinels in the foreground had wound him up and Rook is grateful he waited to do this until they were here. All he has to do now is chat with them to keep the subject off him and his recklessness on the job.

And he wants to chat. Wants their voices ringing through his home until he can hear the echoes once they're gone.

"I went to get groceries for the week." Joseph tells him, he and Rook sharing a laugh for a moment. "And then various things around the compound. Nothing of true interest...unless you'd like to hear the sermon for the day?"

"Well, _I_ ," John elbows Joseph's arm in a way Rook's sure he thinks it subtle, "had to settle a divorce dispute over a goat, of all things. A goat! I went to law school, graduated summa cum laude, and I had to nearly break apart a fist fight over a goat."

"They wanted the goat that badly?" Rook laughs as John shakes his head.

"No! That's the worst part, they each wanted the other to take it! Apparently it's such a pain in the ass neither of them wanted to be saddled with it." He says, Jacob huffing at his side.

"I'll take the damn thing. The dogs up at the compound could use something to chase around, get the energy out."

"Speaking of," Rook cranes his neck around, like he'd suddenly missed a hundred pound ball of fur. "Where's Judge?"

"I was politely ordered," Jacob glares at his brothers who shift guiltily in place, "to leave him at home. Apparently the invitation didn't extend to him."

"Aww, you could've brought him. I love Judge to death, he's my good boy!"

"We'll drop by at some point. Just no feeding him the pizza you get, I don't want to smell his breath after he eats onions and pepperoni." 

Rook huffs at him, mixing up the salad with the stupid salad forks King had given him as a joke. Jokes on you, shithead, he's using them for real life now.

"It's not my fault I have a more sophisticated palate than you, Mr. Seed."

"Sophistication, my ass. Only difference is the MRE's made me glad for real food and they killed any good taste you had left."

"I feel, a bit, as though I'm missing something here." John interjects with a tight smile as Rook jolts.

Hadn't Jacob told them he'd stopped by? Well...maybe he'd been sparing Rook the embarrassment of admitting he didn't know how to cook. It was kind but...odd, given that it seemed like the brother's share everything.

"Dropped by on my way home from work on Friday." Jacob shrugged, purposefully casual though his eyes told Rook to leave the explaining to him. "You were already in bed by the time I got home."

"You nearly followed right behind him." Joseph says with a smile. "Exhausted was not the term to describe your state by the time you got home."

Rook bites back the immediate guilt. He'd kept Jacob for far too long, though the man hadn't made any overt attempts to leave. He'd been too caught up in Jacob's scent, curling over his counters and walls like smoke and lingering, to think about the fact that he'd come over after a long day at work. Jacob was a grown man, older than Rook, and any attempts at babying were probably going to get him smacked upside his head.

"Well," he tries to dissolve the tension with a small smile, setting the salad aside. "I can't think of a better person to come home to when you're tired, Joseph. I'd certainly trust you to get me into bed in one piece no matter how beat down I was."

There's a moment of quiet that makes Rook think he's fucked up. Joseph's staring at him, jaw a little slack, the smallest space between his lips. John and Jacob look a bit tense, shoulders tight, eyes bouncing between him and Rook.

And then Joseph smiles, shaky but wide.

"Well, that's certainly a better compliment than the others I've gotten regarding rest. Normally, people just tell me I encourage sleep."

Rook bursts out laughing, noticing how John looks particularly chagrined--like he's one of the people Joseph's talking about.

"Alright, well, food's all ready. If you guys wanna start making your plates, I just have to cut up the pot roast." Rook turns, pauses, turns back almost instantly. "I mean! If you will please sit at the table, I will serve you."

"We have fully functioning hands." John tells him, rounding the island to bump his elbow into Rook's side. "We can serve ourselves. And not to mention, I don't eat near as much as you probably do. The last thing I want to do is make myself sick trying to clear my plate."

"Please do not do that." Rook murmurs, mollified by his words but still turning towards Joseph and Jacob when they follow behind John towards the sink. "You guys sure? You served me and so I feel like--"

"Rook, you were one man. It is far easier to serve one person than it is to serve three, especially given how much we differ." Joseph places a hand on his bicep, lower near his elbow, and squeezes gently. "Please do not feel as though you are short-changing us in any way."

"Well...if you say so..."

"Go cut the meat before I shove my fork in it and take the lot." Jacob tells him with a grin, bumping into Rook's hip as he passes.

He complies, mostly because John's already finishing up washing his hands clean and partly because he's feeling a bit nervous. The meat shreds easy under his knife, cooked to as perfect as he could get it--despite Rook letting out the heat of the oven about 500 times during the course of the 6 hours it'd been cooking to check on it compulsively. He wants them to like it, wants them to eat until they can barely move. Partially because he wants this dinner to go as well as it can so they have a shot at still being friends--

Partially because the thought of all of them, well fed and lazy after a good meal at his table, makes Rook want to purr from deep inside.

He does, which has John responding with a quiet, almost thoughtless hum as he comes up to his shoulder, peeking over, filled plate held in one hand. Rook forces the vibration to change, mind skipping until it lands on some nonsense song he'd heard on the radio earlier. John doesn't mention the shift but he stops humming along, which is disappointing, and rests his chin gently on Rook's shoulder, which is decidedly not.

"It smells fantastic, all of it. I haven't had pot roast in a while, I'm rarely home long enough to cook it. And since Joseph is best left to soups and stews and Jacob is a disaster unless the food can be grilled, I don't get anything like this unless I take the day to make it."

"Fuck off. I'm perfectly capable of making food on the stove, I just think it tastes better grilled most of the time." Jacob says, joining John and Joseph where they hover at Rook's back. 

Joseph, for his part, doesn't try and defend his cooking skills. Merely a silent presence that grins a bit sheepishly when Rook turns around. The three of them are holding their plates expectantly, already piled with the potatoes and cinnamon carrots Rook had set on the counter. He looks at them, back at the meat, and steps aside with a small laugh.

"Help yourselves. Next time I'm in the way, just shove me over."

He snags the salad on his way past, filling each bowl at the table neatly as he can without spilling the various add-ins and topping on the dark wood. He'd had to put the leaf in to make it big enough, and drag two more chairs out of the small garage out back, but it's going to fit all of them neatly.

Tightly, but neatly.

He ignores the crowing in his chest at the thought of them all huddled in close, relaxed and lounging after a solid meal.

They all settle soon enough, sheepish laughter over the bumping of knees beneath the table, glasses of lemonade set out at each place--best Rook could offer though his mom had suggested wine when he'd told her the menu. By now, Rook knows to wait, offering up his palms and meeting John's stretched foot with his own. They share a smile before heads are bowed.

"Heavenly Father, we gather here to offer thanks for the meal you have provided for us. We are grateful for the bounty of this Earth, for the companions we have been given, for the path you have set before us. We were blind but now we see. And the sight that looms before us is of your most gracious gift, the future we thought could never be when we were blind and ignorant to your plans."

Rook frowns slightly, opens his eyes and flickers them between the brothers. They are all grinning, even Jacob's teeth are flashing amidst his beard, cheeks stretched wide. So...odd, but not something they're confused about. It's different from the grace Joseph said a week ago, like there's a double meaning there.

Hope flashes, hot as wildfire and twice as bright as the sun. Does it mean they forgive him? Already? He said companions, Joseph had mentioned God's path a couple times to him now. Maybe it was there way of telling him all was forgiven and forgotten, a cleansed past they should all move forward from.

Rook can't help but smile too, shutting his eyes quickly and bowing his head as Joseph finishes up. He repeats the amen, cheeks starting to ache by the time he looks up and schools his face into a more placid mask. 

"So, this is your home?" John gestures around with his knife, spearing a carrot with his free hand. "It's very nice. Homely."

He winces just as Rook laughs at the repeat.

"You don't have to lie to spare my feelings. I know it's kinda...spartan. I mainly use it to sleep in. If I was closer to home, I'm sure my mom and King would've moved in and started mucking about the place, trying to fix it up. But I'm just not inclined towards it."

"Nothing wrong with not having stuff everywhere." Jacob murmurs just as John scoffs.

"That apartment you have up near the veterans center is _packed_ , Jacob. You nest just like everyone else."

"It suits you." Joseph says, seemingly stopping the argument before it starts in earnest. "One's home is a reflection of themselves on occasion and I would say this certainly fits with the idea in my head of who you are."

"I think my bedroom might be a little more honest to who I am," Rook tells him with a laugh, chasing a swallow of meat with lemonade. "My mom used to make fun of me, asked if I was nesting when she'd see my room after I went a bit without cleaning it up."

"I doubt you go as far as Joseph. I think everytime he finds a new blanket he takes it home." Jacob says as Joseph flushes.

"There is little wrong with seeking comfort."

"Agreed." Rook tips his glass with a grin, Joseph cautiously returning it, red cheeks stretching. 

"So, then, the question I think we've all failed to ask." Joseph asks after a while, once conversation has come and gone in place of finishing their meals. "Why Hope County, Rook? Why Montana when it was so far from home?"

"You guys are far from home too." Rook reminds him with a smile. "Ah...I guess I was just looking for someplace to start again. Post-Army, was just trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Started looking for Deputy positions when King suggested it, guess a lot of ex-military go into law enforcement. Hope County needed some new blood and it was just far enough from everything I thought it was a good idea. Touching ground here...felt like coming home. Felt like I was supposed to be here."

John smiles, secretive and too knowing, but Rook doesn't get the question out before Joseph is humming in agreement.

"It is the same for us, I believe. Coming together again was perfect but there was always something...missing. Other states are not so accommodating to a church such as ours, no matter how well we complied with their rules and regulations. We laid out a map and searched for our new home together, one we all agreed upon instead of the choice being taken from us as it had been so many times before. Hope...Hope seemed rather fitting for what we were seeking at the time."

Rook cautiously reaches out, exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding when Joseph meets him halfway, clasping his hand tight.

"For what it's worth? I'm really glad you guys came here."

"You know?" Joseph's smile is blinding, mimicking his brothers when Rook glances about to share the sentiment with them. "So am I."

Conversation flows easy then, the stop and start more for the settling laziness of being full than a lack of content to discuss. Jacob has seconds when Rook climbs up to refill his plate, John waving them off with exaggerated pats to his stomach. Joseph allows Rook to refill his salad bowl but refuses any more actual food. It has Rook worried for a moment, concerned the meal was too heavy for their palate, before John whines that he "shouldn't have bothered eating lunch, it's taking up valuable room I could be filling with pot roast. Someone get me a blanket, I'm going to take a nap. And a take away plate!"

"I have a couch." Rook tells John with a grin. "And there's a blanket thrown over the back. You're more than welcome to go lay down while I clean up."

John doesn't need to be told twice, levering himself out of his chair and trotting off. Rook hears the content sounding sigh from the front room along with the creak of the springs accepting a thrown weight, biting back a pleased purr. The idea of John accepting it so easily, making himself at home in Rook's space, has Rook humming happily to himself as he clears off the finished dishes. He's thankful he remembered to empty the dishwasher, tucking the plates inside to run it once it's full. Joseph allows him to take his with a small smile, keeping ahold of his glass so Rook doesn't take that as well.

Jacob, however, waves him off with a mouthful of potatoes. Rook doesn't bother, wondering if Jacob might snap at him like a dog if he tries to take his food early, and then has to quickly turn himself around to face away from them.

Jacob's teeth in him would be far from an unpleasant experience. But he doesn't need to be thinking about those sorts of things right now, not when everything is going so well so far. He needs his cock and brain to behave themselves for once in his life.

"I should go ensure John doesn't actually fall asleep." Joseph murmurs softly, Rook making an assessing noise over his shoulder. "He won't forgive himself if he misses out on visiting in favor of rest."

"Ah, he's okay to sleep. If he's tired, no point in waking him up. You guys work hard, you deserve any rest you can get." 

Joseph ignores Rook's words but there's a soft hand against his shoulder as he passes so Rook knows he at least acknowledged them. 

"You should take it as a compliment." Jacob tells him with a wave of his fork. "John's...uneasy around a lot of Alphas, for good reason. That he's so willing to crash out after only being here for a while is a good indication of how much he trusts you."

"I want him to trust me." Rook says with a sigh, sitting down heavily. "I want _all_ of you to trust me. And I hope you will. Like I said, what happened at your house was...not a common occurence. The thoughts just made me--sorry, no, we shouldn't rehash it. But it wasn't who I am."

He waves a hand around the kitchen aimlessly.

"This is who I am. I'm boring but I'm stable." He snorts. "At least, that's what every other Omega has told me."

When Jacob arches a questioning brow, Rook rolls his eyes, pitching his voice a bit higher. 

"You're such a nice guy, Rook, it's not that. But you're so _boring_. I need adventure and spice and something other than just going through life. But don't worry! You'll make some Omega really happy one day." He breaks character, waving a finger at Jacob. "There's nothing _wrong_ with just relaxing at home. Life doesn't have to be adrenaline all the time, there's something to be said for just...relaxing."

Jacob nods as he chews patiently, washing it all down with lemonade that he rolls around on his tongue for a few more moments. 

"I'm not one for the sermons like Joseph." He says finally. "So I can't offer some verse to you. But I...I have faith too, you know? And there is, as in all things, a plan. They weren't right for you, Rook, they weren't the Omegas you were supposed to make happy. So it suits that they didn't feel right with you. They knew they were touching borrowed property at best."

"I'm not wholeheartedly sure about that." Rook raises his own glass. "But I'll certainly drink to it."

They clink, gentle, and Rook's just pulling his glass away when Joseph re-appears in the doorway. 

"I think, if you have it, coffee might pull John from the couch better than my chiding words would."

"Coffee sounds _amazing_." Jacob says, just as his knife and fork hit the empty plate.

“Yeah,” Rook says with a pointed stare, pushing to his feet. “I bet it’d go amazing with the dessert. Which is still a mystery. Because I was not permitted to look under the threat of having it taken away from me.”

Jacob grins, sharp and teasing and tempting. 

“I take mine black.”

"Well, the whole serve yourself thing went straight out the window right quick, huh?" Rook teases as he crosses, the motions of starting a pot so familiar now he could do it in his sleep.

 _Has_ done it in his sleep before, actually. Which was a very odd morning that left him wondering if he'd taken someone home the night before or the most bizarre breaking and entering had occurred while he was asleep.

Jacob hums, "Maybe I just like watching you serve me."

Rook flushes instantly, bracing his hands on the counter in front of him and white knuckling the lip. His cock is straining at his zipper just from the words, let alone the almost-maybe- _whine_ in Jacob's tone. It's all in his head, more than likely, he doesn't think he's ever heard Jacob whine at him. But in that split second, he _wants_. 

Joseph clears his throat, sharp and sudden, and it's like he's brought to heel. His whole body calms, releases, the tension crawling over his shoulders and down his spine dissipating so suddenly he feels almost weak in the aftermath. He inhales slowly, carefully, dragging Joseph's scent in deep as the last of the tightness melts away. Joseph is glaring at Jacob when Rook glances over his shoulder, eyes sharp and jaw tight, and Jacob looks properly chagrined, like a kid who got caught sneaking treats before dinner.

Familial dispute, maybe. Something he'd better not touch in any case. It's not his place to intervene, though every part of him wants to tell Jacob it's okay. The flirting, even in a teasing way, is so far beyond welcome Rook wants it despite the smallest bit of sadness it brings. 

It's a taste of something he'll never have. But he's willing to take scraps at this point.

He pours two cups when the coffee maker beeps at him, adding in the suggested "cream and sugar for John, and plenty of it" to one when Joseph nudges in next to him. Their elbows bump, familiar in ways Rook hasn't earned yet, but he smiles at Joseph and it's returned just as easily. He deposits Jacob's cup in front of him with another grin, Jacob still looking a bit annoyed with whatever reprimand Joseph had offered up but catching his wrist to murmur a quiet thanks. Rook's quiet when he makes his way out of the kitchen, hovering near the end of the couch for a split second to just...stare.

John's asleep, or doing a good job of pretending if that's not the case. He's curled onto his side, Rook's blanket draped over him shoulder to knee, shoes kicked off on the floor. His eyelashes are dark smears against his cheeks, chest rising and falling in an even and slow pattern. He looks _good_ , looks right. Like Rook had come home after a long day and John had tried waiting up for him only to fail moments before he started the drive. The thought has an absent smile spreading across his face, hands careful when he sets the coffee on the table and kneels down silently by the side of the couch. 

"John?" He reaches out, cautious, stretching his scent before he extends his hand. "Are you awake?"

Nothing. No response. 

Rook holds his breath, hoping Joseph or Jacob would have warned him if he wasn't supposed to touch when John was unconscious. He curves his palm against the jut of John's shoulder, shakes him ever so gently. There's a soft questioning noise, something adorably like what Rook's heard young pups and kittens make, and John's eyes twitch under the lids.

"Hey, John? I have coffee for you."

"Coffee?" John repeats sleepily, eyes barely open and mouth parting wide on a yawn the second the word slips out.

"Yeah, beautiful." Rook breathes without thinking. "I got you coffee. If you were that tired, you could've just gone and laid down in my bed, y'know? I'd've been happy to give it up for the night."

"I--I don't--I--"

Rook rears back at the sight of John's widened eyes, suddenly aware of what the fuck just came out of his mouth. He scrambles to his feet, backing away with his hands held in front of him. 

"Sorry, sorry! I shouldn't have--I'm so sorry--"

"What's going on?" Joseph stops him with a hand splayed on his back, standing on top of the division between carpet and tile. "Rook? John?"

"Nothing." John tries, sitting up too quick, reaching for his cup with a hand that trembles ever so slightly. "Nothing at all. He was just bringing me my coffee."

"I called him beautiful." Rook grinds a palm into the ache starting up behind one eye. "And I grabbed him to wake him up. I didn't even think, I'm sorry. I know a lot of Omegas don't like to wake up to Alphas hovering over them."

"It's _fine_." John bites out, ignoring his brothers to lock eyes with Rook. "You didn't do anything wrong. I was just embarrassed to realize I fell asleep on your couch when we're supposed to be being good guests."

"You're fine." Rook says, distracted, too fast, hands patting around at his clothes. "Can you excuse me--I just need to--"

He bolts. There's no other word for it. Turns away from Joseph's hand still on him, Jacob's presence at his back, John's keen eyes. Speed walks down the hall, crashing out onto the back porch with too loud a slam of the door behind him. He's got the cigarette lit and to his lips before he can think better of it, forearms braced on the railing. Each breath feels like a punishment, like it's driving the point home with every inhale of the sin. 

Again. He fucked up again. And with John, no less. The baby, the most protected. He's going to burn just like the end of his cigarette if he keeps this up. He should have just cancelled, should have just told them it was too close to his rut to risk it. Everything in him is a battle right now, instincts clawing at him to go back, go back inside with the scents of the Omegas around him. 

Tell them he's not sorry, he's not apologizing for what he wants. 

Rook's just lighting another, two in a row, when the door creaks open slowly behind him. It brings the scent of mint over the acrid stench of the nicotine and Rook turns with a guilty stretch to his mouth.

"Sorry, I can--" He gestures like he's going to toss the cigarette over the rail, stopped by Joseph's upheld hand.

"It is fine. I've told you, Rook, your vices are not reflective of anything other than outlets for your frustrations. They do not define your worth and I do not judge you for them."

"You probably have plenty of other things to judge me for." Rook says on a great rush of an exhale, turning to brace his back against the railing. "You guys heading out?"

"Do we need to?" Joseph asks quietly, closing the distance between them with even steps. "Would you prefer being alone right now?"

"No. Yes. Maybe, I don't know. Everything is," Rook gestures widely with the cigarette before bringing it to his mouth, "all messed up right now. In my head, I mean."

"We should have dulled our scents in some way. I should have known that being in your space, as close as you are to your rut, would be troublesome, and, for that lack of foresight, I apologize." 

"It's not you guys--" Rook rushes but is cut off by Joseph's quiet chuckle and the disbelieving hike of one thin brow.

"Is it not? Three unmated Omegas, in your home, at your table. Being fed food you carefully prepared with your own hands. Sleeping in your space. We are both old enough to know what that can do to an Alpha who is far from their rut, let alone one so near."

"I just--" Rook drags heavy, the cherry flaring between them, the exhale nearly eclipsing Joseph's face for a moment. "I _want_. And I shouldn't and it's my problem to deal with. I never meant to drag any of you into this."

"What do you want?" Joseph asks quietly, stepping forwards until Rook could reach out and grab him if he wanted.

Later, when his mind is settled and the nicotine isn't mixing with the adrenaline, creating an explosive powder keg in his very blood, Rook will berate himself for his actions. Question what in the hell made him think it was a good idea. Demand to know when he became so weak to the Alpha inside his soul that he followed its crazy needs as opposed to letting his higher brain function reign supreme.

But for now...

He turns, pitches the cigarette over his shoulder, and grabs for Joseph. Hooks two fingers into the deep V of his vest, tugs him in close so harshly Joseph stumbles, hands coming up to brace on Rook's biceps. They dig in when Rook presses their mouths together, fingers biting into flesh through the material of his shirt even as Rook rumbles a purr at him. Tries with his actions to show Joseph as opposed to using his ever failing speaking skills. 

There's a moment where Joseph seems frozen, lips unmoving under Rook's, before they open with a soft whine. Rook takes immediately, greedy and desperate, tongue thrusting deep, tasting coffee and dinner and, strangely, mint. Like the scent is so powerful within Joseph that it clings to his tongue as well as his skin. His hands on Rook move, slide, careful over his wound until they can drape over his shoulders.

No longer holding him away. Taking away the only chance Joseph had to push him off.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Rook gasps in between frantic kisses. "I didn't mean to--if you don't want--please, just--"

"No," Joseph says, just as out of breath, tugging him back in every time Rook leans away. "No, no, please. This is fine, this is--this is _right_. I--"

His scent turns sweet in a second, hot like melted sugar, and Rook _snarls_ into his mouth. Drops his hands to Joseph's hips, hauls him in tight so their chests and hips are flush. He can feel Joseph against his hip, hard just like he is, and Rook knows if he ever got the balls to shove a hand down Joseph's pants, he'd find him wet. Soaked. Ready for whatever Rook was going to give him.

He'd be so good. Be so gentle. Give Joseph everything he needed and wanted even if it killed him.

"John wants to know what--ah."

They spring apart--well, Rook springs backwards like Joseph's suddenly caught fire, hands held up in surrender. Joseph doesn't go anywhere, swaying slightly in place, tongue flickering out to smooth over swollen lips. Rook doesn't look at him for long though, eyes locked on where Jacob stands in the back doorway, solid build blocking out the light coming from inside. He doesn't look pissed, crazily enough, just...considering. Like he's shifting his view of the world and trying to find out where he stands in the new land. But he's tense, fists clenching and unclenching at his side, shifting his weight back and forth.

Rook takes a few slow steps to the side, making sure if Jacob lunges that Joseph won't get caught in between them, before he speaks.

"I'm not going to pretend you're stupid enough to believe me if I say nothing was happening. But it's on me. I pulled Joseph forwards, I kissed him. I made the decision, fucking stupid as it was. I--I forced myself--"

"No." Joseph's hand cuts through the air just as surely as his voice does, steel sharper than the knife that had cut through his arm. "Absolutely not. You might have instigated it but I knew I could stop it within seconds if I wanted to. You will not martyr yourself in this. We were both willing participants."

"I'm nearing my rut and--"

"And we are around unsuppressed Alphas _constantly_." Jacob reminds him, coming forwards onto the porch proper. "If it affected us in any way, do you think we would have come here? You said you wouldn't pretend I'm stupid. Don’t go back on that."

"What's going on?" John asks from behind Jacob's shoulder, stepping out onto the porch. "Did I miss the memo that we moved the party or--"

He freezes, nose tipped into the air, inhaling hard enough Rook can hear it. His expression flickers and, strangely, settles on a cautiously pleased grin. 

"What happened out here?" He asks, voice teasing, footsteps light as he takes his place at Joseph's other side. "Did Jacob...interrupt something?"

Alright. Strange. Where Jacob had seemed considering, John almost seems _giddy_. Like a kid viewing a present wrapped so obviously they know what's inside instantly. Cheerful and bright and _pleased_. 

Maybe...Joseph was lonely? Maybe he's just being a shitty little brother about his big bro getting caught red handed? Or could it be he's been waiting for Joseph to find someone, anyone, and the thought that he did makes him happy?

"We...uh...I kissed him." Rook says, still a bit thrown, and nearly staggers under the explosion of lemon scent that shoves towards him. 

John takes a step forward, one hand holding his coffee cup and the other raising, extending towards Rook. He nearly sways forward, looking for any explanation he can get, when Joseph's hand curves around John's wrist. He says something quietly, head turning so Rook can't even hope to read his lips, and Rook can't hear more than "--cannot reach out to take." which makes John's face fall for some strange reason. He's more...contained when he looks from Joseph back to Rook, but he's still smiling.

"Well, I am now human, since I've had coffee. Joseph is surely human after what just happened. Jacob will never be truly human but we learn to adapt to that."

"I can take your coffee away." Jacob says lightly.

John cups it against his chest, eases around until he's standing behind Rook. It makes him laugh, absurdly enough, hand against his stomach like he'll shake apart if he doesn't try and hold it back. The others don't but they're smiling and that's...enough.

"So, it's--it's okay, right?" Rook asks when he can form words, eyes raising to Joseph's. "It's alright?"

"Yes." Joseph inclines his head, something private and almost shy in the upticked corners of his grin. "It's perfect."


	11. Chapter 8

His rut starts on the way home from work on Thursday afternoon. Rook feels a wave of heat hit just slowly enough for him to jerk the wheel, bring his truck to a screeching stop on the side of the road. The pain comes next, a clawing ache that starts along his belt line and spreads up and down. He arches his hips, groans when his back instantly tightens, yanking them back down. Rook claws at the control panel on the door, the windows thankfully rolling down like well behaved dogs come to heel. The fresh air helps, clears his mind enough that he can drag in a few measured breaths, shoving the pain away from the forefront. 

He gets through his front door in a rush, tumbling so hard when it finally opens under frantic scrambling that he nearly hits the floor. 

Goddamnit. Omega heats aren't _pleasant_ , per se, but they come on slow. Like being eased into warm bathwater, one of his past partners had said. Sinking down until their head was underwater. 

Rook wants that part. Wishes ruts came on as slowly. But he's able to keep his head on right even rutted out of his mind and Omegas tend to lose all sense of self-control and cognitive function past the basics barely 12 hours in. 

Fair trades and all that.

His clothes get thrown every which way as he treks up the stairs, the cloth already too agitating on his skin. Rook falls face first into his bed, hips shoving down into the firm pressure of it. His first orgasm comes just like that, Rook's knees spread wide, hips thrusting so hard the bed frame bangs into the wall. There's the slightest ebb, thank god, after that initial rush of want. 

It gives him enough time to choke down half a bottle of water, the rest spurting up into his face when another spasm up his spine has his hand clenching into a fist. 

Rook's well on his way to his third orgasm, the second jerked out with his feet still planted on the floor and water bottle crushed in his palm, when his phone rings. He groans, eyes rolling in his head--who the _fuck_ is calling him right now?!--and reaches out with his free hand to swipe for where it sits on the bedside table. 

The Caller ID has him rolling his eyes for a whole other reason.

"John. What can I--what can I do for you?"

"Rook? Are you alright, you sound strained?"

"M' in rut," he tells him with a hiss, wrist pumping faster just at the sound of John's voice. "Hit on the way home. Still strong."

"Shit." John whines and it makes everything worse, makes Rook picture how good it would sound in person and not just over the phone. "Can I do anything? Do you need anything? It's early--that's probably our fault. The dinner and Joseph and--"

"S'fine. Just need to--heh--work it out, I guess. Be okay."

"I can drop by, I'm close already. I was in town and I--I'll just stop by, make sure you have everything you need, I know without...without it's always worse."

"No!" Rook all but yelps, his cock jerking a disagreement in his grip. "John, you have to stay away from me. It's strong, it's worse, and you can't be near me right now."

There's no telling what he'll do if he sees John. He'd never take advantage of him, of any Omega, but he certainly wouldn't behave in a very becoming manner that's for sure. 

John's voice plummets, barely more than a whisper. "I'm outside. I was close, I wasn't lying, I'm in my car but...god, you smell so good. I can scent you from here."

" _John!_ " Rook has to shove the phone away after the groan shapes itself into John's name, slamming it face down into the pillows and holding it there as he comes across his chest. 

He doesn't want it on _his_ chest. He wants it on _John's_ chest, on his face, deep inside him until there's no way he won't end up pregnant. Wants to mess him up, leave streaks of come across every single tattoo John has until he won't be able to look at any of them without remembering how Rook left his mark there. Rook slaps a hand over his mouth to stop himself from begging for John to come over, let him work him out until they're both just boneless heaps. 

He needs to fucking stop. John _just_ caught him kissing his brother not even 48 hours ago. 

He comes back to himself, panting, drags himself out of his own head when he hears John's frantic calls of his name. He picks up the phone with two fingers, trying not to get come on the screen as he presses it to his ear once more.

"Here, I'm here, I'm sorry." Rook's trying to control his breathing and failing miserably. "I had to--John, you have to go. Even outside, if I can catch your scent, I--"

"Yes, of course. I’ll call the station and let them know. And you just, you-- Call for anything you want, call anytime, I'm here." There's a half second pause. "Well, I'm not _here_! Not here-here, I'm leaving, I'm down the road already just...just...Don't forget your blanket!"

Rook doesn't. It takes him almost the full night before he's strung so tightly he needs to use it. He comes out of the shower, cock already stiff at his hips once more, bobbing with every wavering step he takes towards his bed. He throws himself down on his belly again, like the first time, and reaches over the side of the bed to swat for the plastic watertight tub he'd stuffed under there Tuesday night.

The second he pops the lid, his body goes haywire. His vision blacks out totally, leaving him blind as he claws and yanks until he can bunch it up under his face, burying his cheeks against the soft fur. He smells lemon and mint and gunpowder, as familiar to him now as his own heartbeat. 

He smells the _Seeds_. Joseph and Jacob and John a mixture in his nose that goes straight down to his cock. 

Rook keeps one hand tight in the blanket, rubbing his face up against it like a cat, getting drunk on their scents as he shoves the other between his body and the mattress. It had been Jacob who'd suggested it, eyes tracking the way Rook tried to touch it as little as possible while he folded it up to put back on the top of the couch, trying to preserve John's scent on it. They'd taken turns wrapping it around themselves, sitting on top of it, Joseph even smiling at him sheepishly as he rubbed it against the pulse points under his jaw. 

The thought of him allowing Rook to do the same, nuzzle into his jaw until Joseph's beard left his skin raw and the scent was so deep he couldn't scrub it off, has Rook gasping, coming with Joseph's name half bitten off.

Which is a mistake. Because if he thought smelling it was good, his tongue brushing the fur is nearly a religious experience. 

He's going to have to toss the damn thing by the time this is over. Because his teeth clamp down like he's not in control of them anymore, tongue wetting the fabric until it's a sodden wad in his mouth. Rook simply switches places when the scent is replaced with his own, twisting and turning the blanket until he finds another strong patch of their scents.

He passes out somewhere around noon on Friday after using his remaining brain cells to let everyone know what’s going on. His body finally gives up, collapsing under its own exhaustion, even the rut not enough to keep him awake any longer. Rook forces himself out of bed the second he wakes up, glancing out the windows at the black night sky outside as he hurries downstairs to the kitchen. He's got maybe a half hour until his body wakes up alongside his brain and he's back to jerking himself off until his wrist is one big ache. Rook shoves half an energy bar into his mouth in one go, chewing obnoxiously as he returns the few messages he's gotten in the meanwhile.

The Sheriff’s short “Got a call from the Seed. Stay safe.” His mom telling him to call if anything odd happens, his dad reminding him to stay hydrated and stay inside, King telling him to stop being a fuckhead and call in an Omega before he chafes himself raw.

He calls when he sees Jacob's short "John told me. Stay safe. Call if you need, 24/7."

He doesn't need but he _does_ need and it makes him want to scream. Rook washes down the energy bar with a breakfast shake, scowling at how bad the artificial strawberry tastes on his sensitive tongue. It's not about taste right now, it's about getting as many calories into him as he can to make up for the massive energy sink that a rut is. 

If he were with an Omega, he'd have more stamina. Enough to make them food, keep them well fed and hydrated. But he's not and he's doing what he fucking can in lieu of it.

"Rook?" Jacob sounds like Rook woke him up, voice gravel rough, and Rook nearly fumbles the bottle to the floor when his cock gets hard so fast it makes him dizzy. 

"Ah, yeah, hey. You said to call--"

"Yeah, absolutely." Jacob says hurriedly, softly, like he's a kid sneaking a phone call after curfew. "You alright? Do you need--"

"Yeah, I fucking need." Rook can't fully bite back the snarl, the Alpha inside raging against the lack of a mate when there's an Omega right on the other end of the phone. "I need it so goddamn bad. But I'm--I'm good, I'm solid."

He laughs and there's no amusement in the hollow, ringing sound of it.

"I'm rock fucking solid."

"I bet." Jacob murmurs. "What do you need? What do you want me to do?"

"Talk to--talk to me? I can't promise I won't put a hand on my cock and if that's a dealbreaker...I get it. I do. But I--I wanted to hear your voice."

The orgasm following John's call had been so goddamn good Rook wants it again. And he's willing to bet it'll be just as good with Jacob. 

"What do you want me to talk about?" Jacob huffs, but he's not irritated or annoyed. "Could talk about anything if you want. Got more than a couple years worth of experiences in me."

"Anything," Rook gasps, collapsing into a kitchen chair, wincing when the callous on his pointer finger scrapes against the over sensitive head of his cock. "Just...anything. Everything."

He doesn't track what Jacob eventually winds up telling him about. Some absurd story about when he was a teenager back in juvie and accidentally started a food fight/riot in the cafeteria. Rook focuses instead on the rise and fall of his voice, the way it scrapes low when he laughs and is slightly higher when he's trying to hold in another round of self-imposed chuckles. His voice evens out as he talks, like it's coming online along with his body after Rook woke him up. 

He comes in the middle of Jacob's sentence, clamping his teeth together so hard he feels bone creak, biting back any insane urge to summon Jacob to his house. This isn't friends any longer but they're certainly not anything close to that level. 

Might not be, after all of this. It's hard to stay friends when you've heard the other person come and he knows, by the way Jacob's words trail into nothingness, that all his attempts at being quiet were for naught.

"You alright?" Jacob asks softly once Rook is left panting and shuddering in the aftermath. 

"M'okay. Thank you. You didn't have to--"

"I didn't." Jacob agrees. "But I wanted to. Eat something, drink something. Take care of yourself. Call me if--call me if you need _anything_ else, understand?"

"Yessir," Rook slurs through lips that barely feel like they're a part of his face anymore. "Will do."

He lets the phone drop and doesn't make it further than the stairs before his hand is back around his cock. Thinking about Jacob meant thinking about the last time he’d saw him. At the fucking dinner that had changed everything. Settled at his table in the aftermath of the kiss, eating the damn dessert he’d brought. It was a pudding and chocolate mess of a cake meaning Jacob had seemed to take innate pleasure in licking the remnants from his mouth, his fingers, pink tongue dragging wide over the tines of his fork. 

Rook curses himself, curses his rut, and doesn't stop himself this time when the spurts across his knuckles are accompanied by the call of Jacob's name.

By the time Saturday rolls around, Rook feels like he's gone ten rounds with a prizefighter. Everything hurts in different ways, his cock a sensitive line of heat, his hips aching like he pulled a muscle, his calves twitching and cramping with lack of proper hydration. The pulses are coming a bit slower and he tries to get as much done as he can between them, showering and cleaning and eating. 

Though he stops trying to wash his sheets after he leans too close to the dryer to peer at the countdown on the little digital screen and winds up humping the vibrating machine like a fucking dog.

Joseph calls just as he's stepping free of the shower and Rook doesn't think twice before answering.

"Hey," his voice is all but _gone_ , groaned and screamed away. "You completing the check-ins?"

"Rook," Joseph's voice carries no levity. "Please let me come check on you. In person. You sound absolutely _awful_."

"I thought a rut-raw throat was attractive." Rook sighs, flopping onto his back in bed and reaching down carefully for his thickening cock. 

"Rook. This is hardly the time for jokes. You sound as though you are in pain."

"I _am_ in pain." Rook admits with a slight moan when his fingers make contact. "Everything hurts. And I still want, I still feel unsatisfied."

"Did the blanket not--"

"It did. Until I got my scent all over it. I can't even smell you guys anymore."

"Let me come over. Even if all I do is stand behind your closed door, my scent alone could--in the commune some Alphas are eased by--"

"Joseph." Rook cuts him off, one foot flat on the bed to thrust up into the grip of his hand. "If you come over here, you have no idea what I'm going to do to you. What I'm going to beg you to let me do."

There's a pregnant pause, Rook nearly opening his mouth to apologize before--

"What would you do? If you had the chance?"

"I want to knot you. I want you tied to me, stuffed full until we both know you're bred." The words tumble free, fantasies given a voice and running free with the chance. "I'd be so good for you, Joseph, you don't even know, if you just gave me half of a chance."

His voice drops an octave, more animal than human.

"I've thought about you. Thought about the kiss, thought about you rubbing that blanket against your throat. I want to put my _teeth_ in you, Joseph, mark you up until it's a screaming fucking warning to anyone else that you're _mine_."

Joseph's exhale is loud and shaky, nearly shattering, so clearly thrown.

"I'd be gentle, at first." Rook can't stop now, can't force himself to shut the fuck up unless the order comes from Joseph himself. "I know you're tight, I know nobody's worked you open on their cock for so fucking long, and I would. I'd be so gentle with you, treat you how you deserve to be treated. Finger fuck and lick you open until you'd already come a few times and you were just a loose and lazy thing underneath me."

"Rook, I can't--" Joseph sounds like he's in _pain_ and Rook rumbles at him before he can think about it, the purr scraping against already sore muscles in his throat.

"I know, I know. You probably can't--with the religion and--but that's why you can't come here. If I get anywhere near you I might--I _will_ \--"

"Being with the one God has intended for you is not a sin. There is no point in denying what God has set upon this Earth. Omegas and Alphas are meant to be paired, meant to complete one another."

Rook closes his eyes as his orgasm washes over him, gently coaxing him under the waves this time as opposed to dragging him under so fast he might drown. It's partially Joseph's voice and partially the words themselves that force it. Joseph doesn't think sex is a sin, especially not sex between Alphas and Omegas.

It doesn't mean Joseph thinks _Rook_ is his 'other half', the part meant to complete him, but it's...something. Something more than he had before.

"Do you feel better?" Joseph's voice is still tight but it's loosened a bit from the choked back sob it was earlier. "I know a voice on a phone is a paltry companion as opposed to a live body but--"

"Yeah, I do." Rook sighs, body almost more exhausted now after the coaxing orgasm than it's been after the more violent ones. "I'm sorry, that was--I shouldn't have said all that shit. I run off at the mouth, I know I do, so I--"

"It's alright. It's fine."

"See, you say that, but I know that you--"

"Rook." Joseph's voice is firm despite some of the syllables still shaking. "Need I remind you that I have--what? At the very least ten years on you? I know my limits well enough and I'm far too old to make myself uncomfortable at the price of pleasing others."

"Still--"

"I could have pushed you away when you kissed me. You would have moved in a heartbeat had I done anything to indicate that your interest wasn't wanted." Joseph talks right over him. "I didn't. The thought did not even occur. Your attraction, provided it exists and wasn't some...side effect of your rut, is not one-sided."

Well. 

Fuck.

"There are complications." Joseph continues before Rook has a chance to get a gobsmacked word in edgewise. "As with everything...there are complications. But none of this was...unwanted or unenjoyable for me."

"It's not--it wasn't a rut thing. It's what made me do it finally, gave me the balls to reach out for you but...no. I've been thinking about kissing you for a long time now, Joseph." Rook admits lowly.

Joseph makes a soft noise, something that Rook can't quite parse the meaning of in his current state. He stretches his legs back out, winces at the immediate sharp cramp he gets in one foot, and flops onto his side, trapping the phone between his ear and the pillow.

"As I've said," Joseph finally mutters, "there are...complications. And I can't explain to you what those are. But I have faith and in faith all things will soon come to light. Patience is a virtue, if, at times, a particularly difficult one."

"Right." Rook sighs, too exhausted to think on Joseph's all-too-common doublespeak. "I will try and figure out what the fuck you're saying when it doesn't feel like I'm liable to tip off the side of the Earth if I lean the wrong way."

He's being rude as hell but Joseph, thankfully, doesn't seem offended in the slightest. Rather, he _laughs_ , low but still there, amused either at Rook's words or the way he's slurring them because he's so tired he can't think straight anymore.

Not that he's ever been good at thinking straight.

"Rest. Consider my words only when you have the energy to do so. I am certain John and Jacob will want to check in with you this evening, if you feel you would be up to it?"

"Don't think I could deny any of you anything." Rook says softly and there's that uncertain noise again before Joseph hums.

"I suppose that could be seen as a weakness. But I think only of the flattering aspects of it. Sleep, Alpha. Rest. Let your rut run its course as nature intends. I will continue to pray that it is gentle to you."

It takes the rest of the day for him to feel even slightly human again. After some sleep, a meal that consists of more than a microwave burrito and some water, and a shower so long Rook feels like he's scrubbed half his layers of skin off, he feels like things might be adjusting back. The heat in his belly is gone, as is the clawing ache demanding he go find some pretty Omega and put them underneath him until everyone is sweaty and sated. He's still popping wood but it's more manageable, sometimes it goes away without him having to do anything, other times he can leisurely slick his hand with some lotion and bring himself off.

He's just rounding the corner from the washroom, fresh sheets clutched in his grip--and thankfully no attempts at mounting the dryer this time--when the doorbell rings. Rook's head snaps around, his hand going into his pocket to check his phone as he makes his way over.

No missed calls or texts. No one giving him a heads up before the visit. And Rook knows, no matter how out of his mind or desperate he was when he got home on Thursday, he threw the government issued bright orange tag around his doorknob before he got inside. They're a warning to any who might come near without a functioning nose--this is the home of an Alpha in rut. Approach with extreme caution--you have been warned once and that is the only warning you will receive.

"Yeah?" He leans his forehead against the door, trying to sniff out the scent of whoever's on the other side with the tingling of laundry detergent still aggravating his exhausted nose. "What? I'm not buying fucking insurance or some stupid shit."

God he hopes it's not some kid selling cookies or something like that.

"Rook?" 

Fuck. 

Oh _fuck_.

"I thought we were done with this." He groans down at his feet, at the insistent jut of his cock against his boxers.

He's just as hard now as he was when he first stumbled through the front door. John's voice woke up whatever beast had gone to sleep inside him and while his head is still clear, his body has clearly made the executive decision to disobey.

"I won't come in." John's still speaking on the other side of the closed wood. "I promise, I just--Joseph said your rut was winding down and you sounded so terrible and I was worried that--"

John leaps back when Rook cracks the door open, one hand on the porch column like he's prepared to use it to springboard away if need be. Thankfully it's later in the day, the sun not nearly as bright as it would have been at noon, and Rook is only barely squinting as he glances out. He keeps the lower half of his body behind the door, his erection still just as hard and thumping in time with his heart at the sight of John, the scent of him. But he braces a forearm on the frame and arches a brow.

"I'm not going to rush you. So you can stop looking like you're preparing to beat the shit out of me if need be."

John scowls at him, unballs his fist from his side, and takes a cautious step forwards. Rook holds up a hand to stop his approach when it brings the gentle scent of him rolling forwards as well, more blueberry than lemon like John's purposefully trying to push a gentler smell into his abused receptors.

"That doesn't mean I'm not still strung out. I can't have you--I can't invite you in. I don't even want to open the door all the way." Though that's more for his dignity than John's protection at this point.

Rook gets the feeling if John said stop, his whole body would come to a crashing halt. Like with his voice, the word alone, John could yank him back to reality fully, force everything in him to behave. 

"That's fine, it's fine." John sounds a little like he's trying to convince them both of that. "I just wanted to--I know you said to stay away but Joseph said you were coming out of it and I had hoped--"

"I'm coming out of it, yeah." Rook sighs. "But I'm not gonna stand here and lie to you, John, I'm still on edge. I'm hanging on with good manners and not a whole lot else right now. Some part of me still wants to pull you inside and put you underneath me."

John's scent swells for half a second, citrus sharp and _hot_. But it's buried quick and Rook winces--so much for staying friends. He's going to be lucky if any of the Seeds talk to him after this.

Joseph might, Joseph probably will since he'd said Rook's intentions weren't totally unrequited. But that might disappear if he finds out it's not just him that Rook wants, that he also wants his fucking _brothers_ , of all people.

He can't take just one of them. All or nothing, his rut had demanded, drilled into his head. 

And since he's pretty sure even if somewhere in this world that's legal and not viewed as totally fucking crazy, polygamy isn't something Eden's Gate approves of.

One Alpha for one Omega. He's heard Joseph's sermons. Not one Alpha for three Omega _brothers_.

"I'll stay here, then." John takes a step back, down, onto the last step that leads onto the front porch. "I won't come any closer. I just wanted to--see you with my own eyes, I suppose. People can hide a lot over the phone. I wanted to make sure you were truly alright and I knew I wouldn't believe it unless I could see it."

"You believe quite a bit in something you can't see." 

John hums, laughs a little. "God is not a figure before my eyes, no. But I see Him everywhere. I see him in sunshine after a rainstorm and sleep after a long day. In Omegas bringing their newborns into the world and in people like you, Rook. Alphas who are gentle and kind even in times such as these."

"Not sure I'd call myself holy in any way right now."

John rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he's smiling, brighter than even the sun. 

"You are important in ways you do not understand. I know this, I know it like I know my own face, I have been told--" He pauses, freezes, mouth slamming shut like he's let some cat out of the bag.

Rook frowns, opens the door just a bit wider, and John's gaze snaps to him as his hands raise.

"I mean--you _are_ , of course you are. You're a Sheriff's Deputy and a dear friend. Of course you are important."

Friend. 

Right.

Fucking awesome.

If there was ever a way to shut him down, that'd be it. Rook had laid himself out, in essence, told John that at the very least he was sexually attracted. And what had he gotten in return?

_"You're a dear friend, Rook."_

"Did you need something, John?" Rook rubs at one eye, suddenly more exhausted than he's been since this whole mess started.

And by mess he means ever letting himself even entertain the notion that he might be able to seek out a single Seed brother with romantic intent.

He's going to fucking _kill_ his friends for putting the idea in his head. He was fine living with his stupid little crushes until they'd brought up the insane theory that it wasn't as one-sided as he'd thought. And his brain had latched onto that subconsciously, swelled the feelings until Rook was fine with scraps if it meant he could have them in his life.

"Yes." John says quietly, looking a little younger for a moment, a little lost. "I need something quite a bit. But it will have to wait. For the moment, I just wanted to ensure that you were alright. Unpartnered ruts at a certain age can be killer and I wanted to make sure you were okay in the aftermath."

"M'fine. Gonna take me tomorrow or so to get myself back into working order, but I'll be just fine. Though," Rook tips his head, cautiously smiling. "I do appreciate knowing there's an Omega out there who'd risk their own neck to check on me while I'm barely out of rut."

"You'd never hurt me."

"You're right. You're so right about that, John."

John smiles, not a trace of his earlier hesitation still lingering. 

"I will leave you to recover. If you need anything, and I stress the anything, call me. Call one of us." John's grin twists, sly for a split second. "But we both know I'm the one far more likely to answer the call when it comes through."

Rook laughs, something tight in his throat stopping his words. If this is still friends, if he hasn't ruined everything, then it's good enough. If he still gets John's secretive smiles, still gets in-jokes and the offers of help and comfort...it's all good. Levels him in a way that nothing else has. It's not what he wants but it's more than he ever expected he would get when he stepped foot into Hope County.

John leaves once Rook manages to eek out an agreement, eyes scanning over him before he's turning, lifting a hand to wave goodbye over his shoulder. He walks back inside a bit dazed, breaths coming short like he's trying to catch any possible lingering of John on the air. 

He's so sure it's John when his phone rings, halfway through him re-making his bed for the first time in days, that he doesn't bother glancing at the screen before he tucks it between shoulder and ear.

"I thought you said for me to call _you_ , not the other way 'round."

"I didn't say shit, jarhead. Who are _you_ expectin' to be on the other end of this call?"

"King, sonofa--" Rook nearly fumbles the phone, sitting down heavy on the edge of the bed. "What do you _want?_ "

"Well I _had_ wanted to see if my brother was still alive after his rut. I drew the short straw because mom and dad both have 12's today. But now I'm more curious about who you're supposed to be calling."

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"You sure as shit are. Don't make me bring my happy ass down to Bumfuck, Montana." King huffs at him but there's tension in his voice that has nothing to do with the friendly banter.

Rook sighs, lets himself fall backwards on the bed, heels drumming against the side. 

"I'm okay, King. I swear. It was hell and half but I'm alright. Tired and hungry and barely clean now but okay. The Seeds have made sure of that."

"No way they were there with you. Three Omegas? You'd be dead. And your rut wouldn't have lasted no two and a half days."

"They called. Each of them. And John just left, he stayed out on the porch but he dropped by to check in on me." Rook explains as King laughs, a little low and a lot evil over the line.

"And you're still on the whole 'they don't want me like that' idiot trip? No Omega calls an Alpha in rut, and they certainly don't _drop_ by, unless they're wanting the experience shared. They risk getting thrown into a heat just _smelling_ you at that point. I'm telling you, baby brother, they want you like you read about."

"One of them might. I may have...kissed one of them on Tuesday." Rook hurries to talk over King's exaggerated gasp. "And I did not call you because you are a fucking _asshole_ when I like someone. Remember when you painted my number on Cody's car senior year? Yeah, so don't fucking start with me."

King laughs.

"Alright, yeah, fair. But still--hey, you sacked up and made a move! Proud of you!"

"It doesn't matter anyhow. I don't...one doesn't feel like enough. Kissing Joseph was fucking amazing but--"

"Whoa, whoa, pump the breaks." King can barely get the words out through his almost girlish giggles. "You went straight for the _Father?!_ Damn, Rook, talk about balls deep in one thrust."

"Can you _please_ go crash a plane or something?"

It takes King a few minutes, Rook scowling and huffing at him the whole time, but he finally manages a "continue. Please, for the love of God, continue."

"I kissed him and it was good, fucking amazing like I said but...doesn't feel like enough. Feels like just the one will never be enough. So better that I leave it be."

"Greedy," King singsongs, "but I get it. And I'm telling you--you said _all_ of them called? Do they know about the lip lock?"

"Jacob caught us. And John figured it out within seconds." Rook mutters, hearing King's low wincing whistle.

"Yeah, I'd say they're pretty firmly interested. A display like that, especially if they saw it, and they're still all calling and showing up? That's not a friendly kinda concern. That's more of a 'hey, you ain't gotta choose' message clear and simple."

"Nothing about this is clear and simple."

"Could be. Get outta your own head for five seconds." King snorts. "Or get _into_ it. Stop being an oblivious fuck. Maybe they're just the olden, backwards type of Omegas? Where Alphas are supposed to chase after them and they're not supposed to show interest until then. Could be a religious thing but...try it. Worst they can do is punch the shit outta you."

"Jacob was a marksman for the All Americans. He can do _far_ worse than a punch." Rook informs him.

" _Would_ he, though? Look, I gotta go, I wasn't supposed to be here this long but there was no fucking way I was getting off the phone without getting the story. But just...try. They shoot you down and it is what it is, you offer up friendship and you move on. But I got a sneaking suspicion the second you extend a hand, they're gonna grab hold and never let go."

Rook falls asleep thinking about King's words and all the calls he's gotten. He's not sure if King's right but...

Jesus Christ, how many people can think the same thing and they all be wrong? Somebody's gotta be right in all this. Rook's just gotta figure out if it's his friends and family...or himself.

Friendship versus the possibility of everything he wants in life. A platonic bond or some strange three pronged fantasy that he shouldn't even be considering. 

No matter what? He definitely needs more sleep before he considers doing _anything_.


	12. A Fourth Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This interlude is actually a bit of a time-skip backwards, as it takes place at the same time the events of last chapter (aka Rook's rut) does.

Joseph Seed is, and has always been, a man of faith. He puts his trust in the Lord and the Lord has given him so much in return. A flock of his own, his brothers back, and the perfect Alpha for all of them to share. No place for Greed or Envy amongst them. He understands that one's faith will be tested, _should_ be tested, as untested steel is as worthless as a dulled blade.

_However._

"John. You are no longer a child and I refuse to treat you as though you are. You have responsibilities and people who depend on you to complete those responsibilities."

The lump under the blankets grunts at him. Joseph sighs, folds his arms over his chest, and tries to reign in his temper. He hadn't been able to find John around the house and calls to the compound had succeeded in telling him that both Jacob and John hadn't been there all day. He hadn't bothered calling Jacob, half expecting the phone to ring from inside Judge's bed or something else absurd. 

But John hadn't answered. Which was so far beyond odd it had his heart racing for a split second.

His last ditch effort had led him here, to John's bedroom, glaring at the unmoving lump under the covers. John is refusing to move, refusing to talk, refusing _anything_. The bowl of fresh mint in the corner--something John uses to get Judge's smell out of his personal space if he wanders in--is giving him a headache. And he can't even drag in John's typically calming scent because he can't get the slightest smell other than sharp and fresh.

Speaking of Judge...

"I half expected you to be at Jacob's side." He says quietly to the wolf who's laying down on the divider between the room and the outside. 

Judge whines at him in response and crawls a bit closer to the bed.

Jacob must have gone somewhere Judge wasn't permitted to follow then. Maybe fishing. It calms him but Judge likes to participate...which ends in no fish for Jacob and one very wet Judge being angrily dried off by John before he's allowed inside.

Joseph refocuses on the bed, and the still unbudging lump under the thick blankets.

"John. Enough."

"What did I do?" 

Joseph swings his head around, goggling at the sight of John emerging from the house proper and onto the small walkway he's standing on. He swings his gaze between John, who has a bowl of something in his hands, spoon hanging from his mouth, and the lump in the bed.

"Jacob?" He says softly, stepping forwards as the lump moves slightly, curls in on itself. "Jacob, that's _you?_ "

"Jacob's in my bed?" John pops up over his shoulder, nudges at Judge until the animal rolls out of his way with a soft groan. "Is he sick? Is something wrong?"

"I'm...unsure." Joseph approaches the bed slowly, settling his weight onto the edge and gently peeling back the blanket until a shock of red hair shows. "Jacob? Are you sickly?"

"It is bullshit," Jacob says evenly, voice too even, like he's been practicing in his head, "that we can't go to Rook. Do you have any idea what ruts at his age can do to an Alpha who doesn't have an Omega to share it with? He's going to _suffer_ , Joseph." 

Joseph sighs, hears an echo from John as he settles onto the couch pressed against the far wall. He lifts a hand, strokes Jacob's hair back from his face, leaves it cupped over his cheek.

"We are so close. And I know this will be difficult. But all faith must be tested and this is a _test_ , Jacob. You have been tested before and you have succeeded every time. Do not falter when you are so close to what you want."

Jacob's response is the harsh turn onto his other side, away from Joseph's hand. He drops it back to his thigh with another small sigh, looking helplessly at John who raises his hands in response. 

Right. He might be the leader, the Father, but Jacob has always been the rock. The steady and stalwart. Him shaking like he is will send them all tumbling down if they are not careful.

He wants, just as Jacob does, just as John does. He _burns_ with it, especially after Rook's shocking actions at the dinner. He hadn't expected the kiss but he'd wanted it just the same, wanted it so badly it froze him in place for a split second--convinced he'd imagined it into being with such sharp desire. 

That night, when everyone else in the house had settled, Joseph had slipped fingers between his legs for the first time in...too long. He'd been wet since Rook's lips had first brushed his, all contained power and lust unleashed for a split second before he'd reigned it in slightly. It had felt wonderous and blissful and _wrong_. Joseph had given up, curled onto his side with his arms wrapped around his stomach as he bit back sobs.

He knew it was because his body was rejecting his own touch in favor of waiting for Rook's. He'd felt so slick, so open, in Rook's arms that they could have made love right there on his back porch. But it had _hurt_ when he was alone and it, as with other things, was just a test. A test of his willingness to stay strong, to _wait_. 

Joseph will not allow his brothers to suffer in the ways he did that night. Feeling broken and unworthy. He will stay their hands in any way he has to so they never have to feel that sort of aching pain in their chests.

"I should...I have things to do." John says quietly, setting his now empty bowl aside and climbing to his feet. "Before the night falls. Jacob, stay as long as you please."

"Thanks." 

"Your phone?" Joseph stops him with an upraised hand. "I couldn't reach you earlier."

"Ah, it died." John rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Fully charged now though. Did you know, out of curiosity, that Rook's family is on Facebook? Privately locked to only friends but...you can still see photos. His mother is beautiful."

" _John_." Joseph pinches the bridge of his nose, hearing his brother beat feet out the door the second his eyes flutter shut. 

"It's harder on us." Jacob says softly. "John's used to getting what he wants when he wants it. And I'm just...after all this fucking time waiting..."

"I understand. I do. And I do not do this because of some...twisted need to control you, Jacob. I do it because I have been Chosen to deliver this message and I will see the fruits of our labor come to bloom. There is a life on the other side of this...collapse that will leave us stronger in the aftermath. We must simply trust in the plan."

He gets no response other than Jacob's heavy sigh. Joseph pats his hip one last time before climbing to his feet, Judge immediately following suit with a cautiously wagging tail. Joseph offers him a small smile, patting at his large head when it butts against his hip. 

"I suppose it's just you and me, then. You certainly have the initials to be my brother." Joseph sinks his fingers into his scruff, lowers his voice to a whisper that has Judge cocking his head with one big ear upright. "Let's not tell them but at the moment? You're my favorite."

He's at the sink when John all but bursts through the door later that evening. The plate in his hands nearly slips free at the shocked pale color to his features and Joseph hurries to set it aside, reaching out with still sudsy hands when John stumbles towards him.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Joseph seizes his shoulders the second he's close enough, eyes frantically bouncing over all he can see. "Are you injured? Ill?"

"Rook's in rut." He breathes, cheeks flushing bright just at the words, pupils the size of quarters.

"He's early." Jacob rumbles from where he's finally descending the stairs. 

"Our presence at his home must have--" Joseph stops the train of thought before it can begin, shaking his head furiously. "This is right. This is okay. This is what is to happen so that we may find our future together."

"He smells so _good_."

Everything stops at John's whine. Joseph's mind, Jacob's footsteps crossing the floor. He's fairly certain Judge even stops gnawing on the hambone Joseph had handed over an hour before. Time warps, twisting, the words a melody in his mind that plays over and over at different speeds, different rhythms. 

"John." Joseph's voice sounds hollow to his own ears, aware his fingers are biting into John's shoulders cruelly but unable to ease the grip. "Did you go to him? Did you--"

"I didn't! I stopped outside his house and even through the walls I could smell--" 

"Do you have _any_ fucking idea how dangerous that was?" Jacob snarls, stomping over and looking like he's ready to wring John's neck. "You _know_ you have poor impulse control. You know how weak you are to Rook. If you had gotten inside, if he had gotten _outside_ \--"

Joseph opens his mouth, closes it again. There's a ringing in his ears and a familiar crawling blackness to the scene in front of him. He lets himself fall into the vision without fighting it, accepting whatever the Lord has seen fit to show him. He sees Jacob and John reach for him moments before his body goes limp and surrenders to the pulling void.

He sees Rook when he opens his eyes. The bare stretch of his back, sheets curled around his hips. Joseph feels frozen in place but it does not matter, he can see all he needs to from here. Jacob and John bookend either side of Rook's form, John curled onto his side with his face inches from Rook's own and Jacob with his head pillowed on Rook's bent forearm. He doesn't need his nose to know they are both in heat still, though the last vestiges of it, their bodies practically radiating heat and flushed all over. 

Joseph turns his head slightly when movement catches his eye and sees himself walk through the bathroom door, a bowl in his hands that has a rag draped over one side. The Joseph he can see is half dressed, pants too big and sagging around his waist, and his hair is down around his shoulders but not wet from a shower. 

Someone else must have taken his hair down then. He rarely does it himself. Likely the same someone who's pants aren't even close to fitting around his narrow waist.

Rook pushes himself up slightly in the bed at Joseph's approach, a slow smile curling over his features. He extends a hand--likely not the first he has--and he watches himself grip it, linking their fingers together. 

"In a way...I'm glad we waited. It took me too long to figure it out but...worth it." Rook murmurs softly, glancing down at John's slack face. "Felt right. Felt like that rut before was...practice, almost. Get all the energy out so I was filled with new."

"God has a plan. This was always to be part of it."

"Never put much faith in all that before."

Joseph watches his own face split into a cautious grin, bowl settling down on the side table so he can lean over and press a gentle kiss to Rook's lips.

"And now?"

"God gave me you. All of you. I figure...worth putting some faith in after all."

Joseph wakes up in increments. Like bobbing to the top of still water. He becomes aware his feet are cold first, followed by the fact that he's on the couch, the plushness at his back giving hint to that. He has a slight headache, nothing abnormal following the Visions, and he's hungry. Otherwise whole and hearty and _warmed_ by what he saw.

The Lord saw he was struggling, in crisis. And He delivered just the promise to steady him once more. 

Jacob is sitting in his usual chair when Joseph looks up, pushes up onto a forearm. He's regarding him silently for a moment before he reaches to his watch and hits a button.

"S'almost Friday night now, you were out for nearly 12 hours. We caught you before you hit the floor. Been sleeping in shifts to keep watch over you."

"You are both a blessing." Joseph sits up, stretches, opens his arms. "Jacob, come here."

Jacob moves slowly, like he's been sitting in the chair for too long and everything is sore. He complies, though, settling into Joseph's side and allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Joseph tips his nose into the short hair atop Jacob's head, dragging his brother's scent in deep and allowing it to wash away any lingering grogginess.

"I saw Rook. Saw you and John both. In your heats but sated for the moment. It was all so perfect, Jacob, it will _be_ perfect. We must be patient."

"I know. I know." Jacob sighs heavily, weight leaning more firmly into his side for a second as he sinks under the exhaustion. "John's sorry. He'll say it himself when he gets back but he feels terrible. Feels like he disappointed us both."

"He will be overjoyed to hear the plans have not changed then."

"He'll be something, that's for sure." Jacob nuzzles into his cheek for half a second, the affection proof of how tired he must be. "I'm going to head up and poke him, it's about time for a shift change. Don't want you alone for another shift or so until we can be sure you're okay."

"Rest, Jacob. You deserve it." Joseph sends him off with a pat on his back, watching him climb the stairs and hearing the distant sounds of him waking John.

Judge lifts his head for a moment, watching him as well, before he climbs from his bed to sit at Joseph's feet--well, literally _on_ one foot. Joseph hums at him, scratches at his head gently. 

"Are you to be my guard then? Until the baton has been passed?"

Judge, predictably, doesn't answer. But he also doesn't move until John trudges down the stairs and that's enough of an explanation. 

He and John do not sit alone for long. Jacob wanders down little more than two hours after he'd gone up, looking exhausted though there's a brightness to his tired grin and a glittering in his dark rimmed eyes. He settles heavily onto John's other side, leaning into him, and whispers just as he did when they were children up past curfew to share a few moments of joy amongst all the pain.

"Rook called. I texted but I didn't expect--he's alright. He said he was. He...ah..." He makes a crude motion but it gets the point across and John swallows thickly as his scent flares for a moment. "He said he wanted to hear my voice. Asked if it was alright, gave me an out if I didn't want it, but. Yeah. Not stupid enough to miss out on that."

"He came while we were on the phone too," John admits in a hushed tone, their heads tipping together like giggling schoolchildren. "He sounds _amazing_ , doesn't he? Rough and raw but still. I want to hear it for real, in person. Want him to groan out against my skin."

Joseph grants them each a small smile, leaving them to talk it over while he slowly makes his way to the kitchen, Judge a steadying weight against his leg. He makes himself tea with practiced hands, taking a few sips before he runs his fingers over the edge. Judge stares up at him, seemingly in question, and Joseph drops an idle hand to rub the soft as silk flesh of his ear between thumb and forefinger. 

"I'll call him as well. Tomorrow, when I am fully recovered. I should come last, I am the strongest in terms of resisting. I do not regret my lot in life."

Judge bumps a nose into his hip, almost like he's praising his self-control, just as John says something that makes Jacob's scent swell in a way that it nearly eclipses the tea. His brother's joy reaches him, infectious almost, but in the best sort of way, and Joseph cannot help but let his mouth curl into a grin as he raises his cup once more.

"Besides, I hardly feel the clawing need they do. After all...I already know what he tastes like."

He obeys his own self-imposed rules. Barely. Waits until Saturday has started in earnest, breakfast cleared away and his brother's knowing grins lingering in his mind as he excuses himself to his room. 

Rook sounds _wrecked_ when he answers, his words light but his voice destroyed, scraped raw and a few octaves lower than it typically is. He must be done with it, though, if he's in a sane enough state of mind that he can make jokes.

"I still want. I'm still unsatisfied."

Joseph frowns, thinks back on he and his brother's small gift to try and ease what pain they could before they left on Tuesday.

"Did the blanket not--"

Rook explains it away and Joseph tries to suppress the shiver of heat that runs down his spine on the thought of Rook burying himself in their scents while he worked himself out. Once they have him, he reminds himself, Rook will always smell like that. A mixture of them all. No other Omegas will ever be able to leave their scents behind again, no room left on his skin for their marks when he carries Joseph's and his brothers’.

"Let me come over," he finds himself begging, weakness taking hold of his tongue at the thoughts of Rook smelling like them and no other. "Even if all I do is stand behind your closed door, my scent alone could--"

His mind skips, jumps, scrambles for an excuse.

"In the commune, some Alphas are eased by--"

"Joseph." His name sounds so good on Rook's lips, soft but firm, scratchy from an abused throat. "If you come over here, you have no idea what I'm going to do to you. What I'm going to beg you to _let_ me do."

Joseph is struck silent for a moment at the need in Rook's voice. He's heard Alphas in rut before, heard the lust that drips from every syllable, that clouds their minds so thickly it spills free from their tongues. None have ever appealed as much as Rook has. He has never _wanted_ like this before, always been curiously detached.

He would rather die than be detached from Rook's desires.

The words come out in a hushed whisper, little more than a breath, unpracticed and clumsy.

"What would you do? If you had the chance?"

He should not prod. What is offered should be offered without his interference. But this was started by Rook, by the growled warnings that held promises of pleasure the likes of which he's never experienced before.

It is not a sin to grasp the offered hand.

He finds himself tearing his pants down as Rook tells him precisely what he wants to do to him, gives voice to fantasies that are sinfully inclined but not a sin. What transpires between them, between any of them, could never be a sin. Not when it was ordained as it was.

Questing fingers find slick warmth between his thighs, careful probing finding himself open, relaxed, body accepting what doesn't exist in realty just from the few promises Rook is snarling out down the line. Joseph collapses back, unable to keep himself upright as his head spins when Rook coos at him, swearing he'll be good, be gentle, but be _perfect_. 

Except his body clenches down too tightly when he tries to slip a finger inside of himself. The muscles reject his touch, body aware something better is coming and unwilling to accept anything but his intended. Joseph closes his eyes tightly on a sob, feeling the hot itch of tears under the lids.

"Rook, I can't--"

Perhaps if Rook requests it. Orders it. His body would have no choice but to comply with his intended's wishes in this aspect and Joseph is _desperate_ to be commanded.

But his Rook, _their_ Rook, is too sweet and kind to ever force his hand. No order comes, rather the unpracticed and sloppy purr of someone caught in their own mind but still trying to offer comfort. Joseph feels envy for a split second, a flash that coils low in his stomach, at how easy Rook purrs at John and how difficult it seems for him to purr at Joseph or Jacob. But it dissipates when he reminds himself that John needs to be eased down more often than they do, his emotions more volatile and mercurial.

Though he feels particularly volatile himself at the moment.

"I know, I know. You probably can't--with the religion and--"

Joseph feels the insane need to cry and laugh at the same time. Oh, Rook is so sweet but he has it all _wrong_.

"But that's why you can't come here. If I get anywhere near you I might--I _will_ \--"

Joseph wants him to. Wants everything he promised and more. Until they're both exhausted and beyond sated and have to rest in a heap to recover from their shared passion. The words come easy with that thought, a sermon he has given to his flock again and again and again. To younger members seeking advice, worrying over their emotions, and older members who are unpracticed but tentatively trying now that they have found safe harbor.

"Being with the one God has intended for you is not a sin. There is no point in denying what God has set upon this Earth. Omegas and Alphas are meant to be paired, meant to complete one another."

Which is not to say that other pairs cannot be as pure and completing as an Omega and an Alpha. Eden's Gate has both paired with Betas, Omegas finding solace in people of their own status, even a few Alphas who have chosen one of their own as opposed to a different breed. But that does not apply and Joseph is lucky he managed to say what he did without his voice cracking and breaking under what was left unsaid.

Do not deny me, Rook. Do not deny us. We will make such a perfect group, together, under your banner and under your command. Joseph would abandon his crown, whatever throne he has been given, for nothing more than the promise of Rook's love.

John was right. Rook sounds like Heaven's chorus when he comes. 

"Do you feel better?" Joseph manages to ask with a somewhat steady voice in the aftermath.

He's abandoned all attempts at touching himself where Rook eventually will, instead choosing to grip his cock and pump lightly. It will not be as satisfying, it never is, but his body does not reject his touch like it does during other attempts at pleasure.

"I know a voice on the phone is a paltry companion as opposed to a live body but--"

Rook assures him but then, strangely, _apologizes_. As if he has done anything in this world to cause offense. As though he is a snake in Joseph's garden as opposed to the rightful prince left lounging on the throne awaiting his worshippers.

Joseph hurries to calm his concerns, his worries, and fights to keep his voice steady when Rook persists. His own orgasm draws near, starts to coil low in his hips, heart racing and forcing a shudder into his voice.

"Rook. Need I remind you that I have--what? At the very least ten years on you? I know my limits well enough and I'm far too old to make myself uncomfortable at the price of pleasing others."

Deflect. Disorient with humor. A favored tactic of John's but one Joseph knows well enough.

"Still..."

Hard-headed, stubborn, _wonderful_ Alpha.

"I could have pushed you away when you kissed me." Joseph points out through slightly gritted teeth, thumb rubbing maddening circles around his leaking head. "You would have moved in a heartbeat had I done anything to indicate that your interest wasn't wanted. I didn't. The thought did not even occur. Your attraction, provided it exists and wasn't some...side effect of your rut, is not one-sided."

Please let it be true. Let it be real. Let it exist outside the parameters of Rook's body straining for a mate, for _any_ mate. Let it be focused and pointed right at Joseph and his brothers and not simply landing on what is closest when the crash occurs within his brain.

Joseph comes when Rook tells him it was not a side effect of the rut. When he admits to his lust and his need, assures Joseph it was not imagined during that time but lived within him even when his brain was sober and clear. He bites back any sounds, wincing when a soft sigh still slips free while his body shakes apart. He's practiced at being quiet but now it feels wrong, feels sinful to hide his reaction to his Alpha _from_ his Alpha. 

Rook is quiet on the other end and Joseph fears, for a second, he was discovered. He had not asked permission, taken something that was not his to take. Pleasure at the expense of another who was ignorant to it all. 

"As I've said," he manages finally when his breathing starts to steady, "there are...complications. And I can't explain to you what those are. But I have faith and in faith all things will soon come to light. Patience is a virtue, if, at times, a particularly difficult one."

He had thought John and Jacob foolish for their lack of it. It was not particularly difficult for him to hold himself back from Rook until such a time that Rook insisted the distance between them be crossed and eliminated. 

He understands now.

Rook, on the other hand, does not. And Joseph cannot help but laugh at his slightly irritated words. He knows he speaks in riddles more often than not but it is necessary, especially in cases like this. To show his hand before it was forced open would be an insult to the plans so carefully laid.

He urges him to rest, to take care of himself in these troubled times before paradise comes. And has to fling his hand away from his body, bite back a soft but earnest whine when Rook admits to his own weakness in the face of Joseph and his brothers. 

"I suppose that could be seen as a weakness. But I think only of the flattering aspects of it. Sleep, Alpha, rest. Let your rut run its course as nature intends. I will continue to pray that it is gentle to you."

And pray that it is what tips the balance in their favor. What convinces Rook that happiness and fulfillment lie not in the monotony of day to day life, but in his brothers’ and his arms. In their welcoming embrace as they envelop Rook with all the love and affection they have found and made over the years, carefully nurtured and prepared to be given to only the most worthy.

They have waited so long and they will wait longer still. But something is shifting, the Vision evidence of that. A reminder that they path they are on will lead true if only they trust and keep pushing forwards.

A thought occurs, one that is so close to toeing the line between interference and welcoming that he winces when he thinks of it. But Joseph lifts his phone, pulling his blankets over his hips like even talking through the phone would be inappropriate in his current state. And it would be. All of this is inappropriate. But he gets no retribution when he finds the number he had carefully saved long ago, dug up by the more technologically inclined of his flock who were good at finding secrets and better at keeping them. No heavenly hand reaches down from above to smack sense into him so it must be...okay. 

"Hello?"

"Is this Kingsley Wylde?"

"Depends entirely upon who is asking."

Joseph smiles--he is every bit the Alpha Rook describes him as.

"My name is Joseph Seed. If you have a moment, I'd like to speak to you. About Rook."


	13. Jacob's Complaint

"I would like to be the first to personally inform you; you look like shit."

"Thank you so much for your kind words. Please, go fuck yourself."

"That's a terrible way to talk to someone who came bearing coffee."

Rook lifts his head off his desk, glares up through his sunglasses and makes grabby hands. Staci laughs, deposits the cup into his palm, and sits down heavy on the chair chained to the side of his desk for interviews. He doesn't look great either, the undersides of his eyes bruised like he hasn't been getting enough sleep, body all but folding it on itself. But he's there and more conscious than Rook, and that's saying something.

"Your heat pass okay?" Rook mumbles around the a mouthful of coffee.

There's espresso in this, and Rook is going to buy Pratt's lunch for a _month_.

"Rough, but it all worked out. How about you?"

"I didn't have a heat. If I had, I wouldn't be here, I'd be in the hospital in Missoula screaming my head off for every test they can run."

Pratt kicks at him, connects with his ankle hard enough Rook twists away from him with a bark of pain. 

"Hey!"

"Stop being a smartass or I will take the coffee back."

"Why does _everyone_ want to take my coffee away?!" Rook twists, holds it close to his chest, and then sighs. 

"I'm fine. Rough on my end too but...all worked out. Like you said. S'okay."

"I bet it's okay." Pratt grins and Rook likes no part of it. "So--how many calls did you get? People just, y'know, being friendly. Checking in."

"I got a few." Rook scowls at his amused huff. "No, that's bullshit. It doesn't mean anything. I would've called you too if I knew you were going into heat."

"And I wouldn't have answered. How many times did you answer?"

“I don’t feel like that’s information you need to know.” Rook sniffs, trying for haughty and failing miserably when Pratt shoves a finger in his face.

“You know that’s why it was such shit, right?”

“Kinda figured it was hell cause I’m at prime baby making age. And my crazy subconscious was pissed there was nothing to put said baby making body parts into.”

Pratt scowls at him, nails him right in the shin with his boot--for fucks sake, Rook’s going to petition the Sheriff for shin guards at this point. He swirls his cup, sloshing the coffee inside around for a second.

“No, you fucking idiot. You were talking to Omegas. Ones you want. If you had zero contact and just went about your rut, it probably would’ve burned out faster. But it was like dangling a bone in front of a dog and your poor impulse control just made it worse on you.”

“Fascinating,” Rook says dryly, “and more inspired advice, Dr. Pratt? Maybe you can advise me on how to make my next rut a little less fucking awful?”

“Yeah. Get a partner.” Staci’s grin is more a showing of teeth than a smile. “If, that is, you think you can pick just one?”

Rook's silence is answer enough for Pratt and he shakes his head. They don't talk more for a bit, recovering together in the corner where Rook's desk sits, sipping at their coffees. There's something easy in the air between them, probably because they're both coming out of their cycles. Does something weird to the brain chemistry on the downswing, eases it so fast it's almost an even trade for how high Alphas and Omegas can wind each other up when the ruts and heats start.

Their heads swing in tandem when Hudson's quiet "yeah, he's right through here, come on in" precedes her stepping into the bullpen. Jacob is right behind her, casual distance between them, head twisting around until his gaze lands on Rook. He takes a quick assessment, eyes flickering everywhere like he wants to put his hands to flesh to double check and he's settling for what he can get. 

Pratt slaps a hand on his desk, pushes up and away as Jacob makes a beeline for them with a muttered "I'll give you two your privacy."

Rook wants to scowl after him, but his attention is drawn to a focal point when Jacob comes to a stop in front of his desk, so close the fabric of his pants is brushing the lip.

"You okay?" He asks softly, Rook nodding and gesturing to the chair Pratt recently vacated. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm okay. Sit. You didn't have to come check on me."

"Well, that isn't the _only_ reason I came." Jacob complies, easing himself down, wriggling in place like he's trying to get comfortable on the hard plastic. "But I'll admit it was a big part of it. You went a bit radio silent on us all, had us worried."

Us. Great. So Jacob is here for whatever reason he has but also because Joseph and John probably prodded him into it.

_"Go see why he's being a big fucking coward and dodging our calls."_

Not that there have been any actual calls. But Rook's ignored a few texts even though they burned holes in his pocket and made his chest ache. He's still trying to figure all this shit out, figure out if it's a shared madness he got infected with at the 8 Bit or just him finally realizing shit way too late as per usual.

"Just recovering. I'm not as young as I once was." He and Jacob share a chagrined smile. "Takes a little longer nowadays. But I'm all good, just trying to get back into the swing of things."

"If you're sure..." 

"I am." Rook finishes off the coffee with a flourish, tossing it towards the trash can in the corner and thanking every God in existence that it hits the mark when Jacob's eyes track it's path in the air. "So--what can I do you for, Mr. Seed? Have you gotten yourself into some trouble?"

He pauses, thinks for a moment.

"Have your _brothers_ gotten themselves into trouble that you've now taken responsibility of?"

Joseph probably wasn't much for mischief. But John on the other hand...

Jacob rolls his eyes, laughs like he can track Rook's thought process even as he shakes his head.

"Technically, but not really. This is more on me. Joseph said you came to the compound on behalf of Drubman Senior and his inane ramblings?"

"That's right." Rook reaches slowly for the notepad at the edge of his desk, fishing a pen out of the cup that's empty more often than not. "If this relates, I should be taking notes."

"It does." Jacob nods and Rook waits patiently, pen hovering over paper.

Jacob crosses his arms over his chest, shifts again, looks around. Pratt's at his desk, idly scrolling through some social media or another with his coffee still clutched in one hand. Hudson's in the file cabinet, two under her arm and clearly looking for a third. The Sheriff's been in his office since earlier than Rook but the door is open, propped wide in case any of them need anything--not that it's ever really closed unless Earl's grabbing a few minutes of sleep on particularly grueling shifts.

“You...don’t want to talk here?” Rook asks cautiously.

Jacob shifts again, almost like he’s rubbing his back on the seat, and his eyes dart over to Pratt, linger for a split second. 

“He’s fresh out of a heat, huh?”

“Who? Pratt? Yeah, he was in it this weekend, same as...my...rut.” Rook arches a brow. “He spent his alone too, in case you’re curious.”

Jacob’s eyes flash back to him, narrow slightly. Rook instantly feels like an idiot. He just outright said he knew an Omega who suffered through their heat alone at the very same time that he was going through his rut. They synced up, Jacob probably thinks he turned Pratt down or something, left him to deal with it on his own.

“I mean--uh--he didn’t want a partner. Well, he wanted one but he never said who but it wasn’t me. Because, well, we work together and that’s a terrible idea all around, but also because when I told him I was going into rut? He punched me in the leg and told me to not even think about it.”

Jacob laughs, shakes his head.

“My kind of Omega.”

Rook scoops the notepad up, taking note of Jacob's discomfort despite the light-hearted chatter, and stands, sliding the pen behind one ear.

"You wanna talk about it somewhere else? S'not really close to lunch but we could get away with a late breakfast, if you're hungry?"

"Not so much, but I know you need to be carbo-loading after the weekend." Jacob pushes himself out of his chair with a growing sense of relief. "Still, yeah, would prefer a little more privacy."

Pratt wriggles his brows at their retreating forms and Rook offers him a single finger salute just before the door to the bullpen shuts on whatever retaliatory gesture he would have offered up.

They walk in silence, down the dirt path that leads to the Sheriff's station and into the small gathering of buildings nearby. Rook offers to go snag a few things when they come upon the small bakery that serves pastries and coffee early in the morning, Jacob nodding and already heading for one of the small tables set outside the shop. He winds up getting them both huge cups of coffee and a few danishes, grabbing one of each flavor because he's not...actually sure what Jacob likes.

He thinks he'll like lemon, for some absurd reason, though that's probably just him projecting. 

The young Beta behind the counter waves off his attempts to pay, eyes bouncing between him and the huge front window through which Rook can see Jacob settling at the now cleared table. The sunlight catches just right in the red of his hair, turning it to shining copper, and Rook forces his gaze away, forces himself to focus.

"I can pay, it's alright, I--"

"Not at all." She shakes her head and Rook's eyes zero in on a familiar cross necklace around her throat. "Friends of Brother Jacob are friends of ours."

"Right. Yeah. Of course." Rook waits until her back is turned and shoves a ten into the tip jar on the counter, quickly scooping up his stuff and shouldering through the front door.

Friends. He's getting really fucking sick of the word, to be honest.

"I just said I wasn't that hungry." Jacob reaches for one of the danishes anyhow. "You had better finish these off. If John hears you let Elizabeth's danishes go to waste he'll drag you down by your ear to apologize."

"I'll clear my plate, _mom_." Rook mutters, grinning when Jacob's teeth snap closed around the edge of his treat.

Lemon. Just like he thought. If Deputy doesn't work out, maybe he oughta get a job as one of those phone psychics.

"So," Rook says after he's one danish down and pulling the careful plastic wrapping off the next. "What's going on? Is Senior still being a pain in the ass?"

Jacob grunts, swallowing his sip of coffee and licking any remnants off his lips before he speaks. Rook firmly orders his eyes to stay on Jacob's and is mollified that they only dip once.

"More than, at this point. He showed up at the Compound yesterday."

"He did _what?!_ "

Jacob nods. "Yeah. The guards didn't let him past the gate but he made so much of a ruckus Joseph went to see what was going on. Some of our members don't do great around shouting Alphas, and he wanted the problem gone and gone fast."

"If Senior said or did something to him--" Rook threatens, a snarl forming before he can even think about it.

He'll kill him. Bust his front door open and wrap his hands around the stupid man's throat until he doesn't ever shout again.

Jacob reaches out with hand and scent, fresh spring water running around Rook's head just as a firm hand grips onto his wrist. He breathes deep, lets Jacob calm him, though he knows he shouldn't be doing this so close to his rut. He's stable, well enough to be back at work, but he's still too close to the edge.

"Relax. Breathe with me." Rook complies until he's more human and less huffing bull. "Joseph and John made him back off. Turns out, John threatening to slap him with everything from trespassing to inciting panic amongst Omegas was enough to make Senior think he'd better retreat or risk that fucking campaign of his going downhill fast. But I want this taken care of. I wasn't there that time, and that's the only reason he got as close to the gate as he did."

Jacob bares teeth of his own, something so like an Alpha snarl it makes the hair on the back of Rook's neck stand up and something clench low and hot inside. Jacob's an Omega, sure, but he certainly doesn't act like it. 

It's fucking hot. 

"I don't want to think about what stupid shit he'd have done if he'd showed up on the rare occasions when none of us are there. I know he fucking timed it so he wouldn't have to deal with me. If he tries again, he'll be even more careful that there's nothing in the way of his bullshit campaign attempts."

"I'll go out there today." Rook promises, shaking Jacob's hand where it's still locked around his wrist. "I'll have a nice _chat_ with him, and then you have my word he won't darken the doorways of Eden's Gate ever again."

"I'm going with you." Jacob holds up his free hand to cut off Rook's protest. "Rook. John was so mad by the time he came home I nearly broke my tailbone slipping on the wax floor. He stress cleans and you could've eaten off the fireplace by the time he was done with it."

Rook's reaching for his phone before he thinks twice about it. 

"I should call and--"

"Yes." Jacob agrees. "You should. _After_ we go deal with Drubman."

Rook lets his phone settle onto the table, staring at Jacob's determined expression. He lets his eyes drift down to where Jacob's still holding his wrist, thumb now swirling small circles like he's trying to throw one more conviction into the pot so Rook will say yes. 

It's technically not permitted if he's going to serve an arrest warrant or something similar. But sometimes the Deputies are called in to oversee disputes that might turn violent, for both parties protection and so they can head off any neighbors calling in with concerns.

Given the way Jacob had flashed teeth? It's _definitely_ got the potential to turn violent.

"Alright," he relents finally when Jacob refuses to stop staring at him. "I might need you anyhow to keep me in check. I'm none too pleased about Senior getting an attitude with your brothers and with everything still tense in me, I'll probably need some grounding."

"Pretty good at grounding." Jacob says softly. "Anytime you need."

"How are you _not_ an Alpha?" Rook asks once they've both polished off two danishes apiece and Rook's eating the last of them. "Or--well, shit, is that insulting?"

"You didn't call me a 'defective' Omega, so no." Jacob laughs while Rook decidedly does not. "S'okay. Obviously not the first time I've heard it. Plumbing got all fucked up somewhere along the lines I guess. Everything according to plan, though who's plan it was to make me a hyper aggressive Omega I question at some points. All worked out, though. If I wasn't how I am, I couldn't have protected Joseph and John like I did."

Anger swells in his chest, explodes like firecrackers, and Rook swallows it back so hard it almost hurts. 

"You won't have to anymore. You don't have to do it alone anymore. I'm here for you all."

"Appreciate it." Jacob eyes him for a second, something warm in his eyes. "Never sat well with me, relying on Alphas to take care of shit. But...I trust you. Don't mind handing over the reins."

Rook shoves the rest of the danish in his mouth in one go so he doesn't say any sappy shit. It takes some awkward chewing and a few winces at Jacob's amused stare, but he works it down and picks up his notepad from the table, washing the wad of food down with a healthy sip of his coffee.

"Alright, well, if we're gonna do this crap we'd better go. I'm sure you've got stuff to do today that doesn't include dealing with his stupid ass."

"Cleared my schedule, actually. Thought this might require all of my attention."

"Of course you did." Rook mutters as Jacob laughs from behind him.

Jacob is, unsurprisingly, the perfect passenger once they get back to Rook’s cruiser. He doesn't fiddle with the radio, doesn't try and touch the window controls, and doesn't point to every button on the dash asking what each one does. He keeps his hands folded on his lap, glancing out the window every so often and back at the side of Rook's face when he gets caught looking over. More than a few miles pass in silence before Rook sighs and drums his fingers on the wheel.

"So. This is awkward."

"Is it?" Jacob wipes a bit of imaginary dust from his jeans. "Here I thought we were just enjoying a silent drive together."

"Alright, well, it's awkward for _me_. I feel like I should...apologize?"

"You apologize a lot. I'm beginning to think you've apologized for breathing before."

Rook thinks back to one particularly embarrassing time when he'd tried to talk to a crush after a track meet and couldn't catch his breath.

"Ah. Well. That is rude."

"It's true then." Jacob laughs, shakes his head. "You're something else. Never met an Alpha like you before, Rook. But I'm certainly not complaining about it."

"I endeavor to leave a _lasting_ impression if I can't leave a good one."

Jacob mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "well, you did." It makes Rook hang his head, sigh, rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. 

"Look, if this is about me kissing Joseph..."

"Why would I have a problem with you kissing Joseph?"

"Because he is your younger brother and a church leader and an unsuppressed, unmated Omega and--"

"Does King do this to you? Hover around you like he has to protect your precious virginity?" Jacob snorts. "Wrong as it feels to say it, Joseph lost that a long time ago. No, Rook. The long and short of it is; no, I'm not angry that you and Joseph kissed. You're both grown and able to make your own decisions about what you want. And Eden's Gate doesn't have any problems with Omegas and Alphas being together--or anyone for that matter--provided that both parties want the same things out of it and are in agreement about what those things are."

Rook thinks back on King's words as he guides them onto the dirt path up to the Drubman residence. He can't believe he's saying what he is when he opens his mouth but Jacob's looking at him and unless he wants to do his best fish impression he has to say _something_. He takes a split second to remind himself that either way, he gets the answer he wants. A "yes" opens up a world of possibilities, a "no" shuts a door to a hall he'd been staring at for the longest time now.

"Were you...jealous?"

"Was I jealous?" Jacob rolls the word around in his mouth like he's trying it on for size and Rook shivers at the way his accent drags it out into a symphony. "Yeah, actually. Maybe a little. Mostly happy for Joseph but...yeah. Jealous sits pretty well."

Rook steps on the brake so hard Jacob shoves a hand forward to catch himself on the dash. But he doesn't stop looking at Rook, like he'd been expecting the reaction. Rook stares at him, catalogues the way Jacob lacks any sort of teasing grin or light to his eyes to indicate he's joking around. He's dead serious, eyes sharp when they lock onto Rook's.

"Are you...you're serious."

"You asked." Jacob says softly. "I answered only because you asked. If you hadn't, I would have happily kept it to myself."

"I am...why didn't you tell me?!"

"What was I supposed to say?" Jacob shrugs, eyes darting to where Hurk is once again staring down the driveway at them. 

At this point he probably thinks there's some forcefield Rook has to get his way through before he can arrive at the damn house. 

"I dunno, fucking--anything?! I thought you guys _hated_ me for a while there. I thought I was one open sightline away from catching a bullet to the forehead."

"I wouldn't shoot you in the forehead. Leg, maybe, hurt without death." Jacob sighs when Rook doesn't laugh. "What was I supposed to say to you, hm? Hey, Rook, I know I'm so far past prime it's laughable, and I wasn't the picture perfect Omega even before the Army and what came back was even worse than what enlisted in the first place but--what'd'ya say to a date?"

"I would have said yes."

"Bullshit."

"I _would_." Rook reaches out, catches Jacob's forearm. "Jacob, look at me. I would've said yes in a _heartbeat_ , are you kidding me?! Have you not noticed my pathetic ass doing everything I can to make sure you guys still wanna be around me?"

"Easier to believe it's for the group in that way. Not...individualized." Jacob winces like his excuse sounds pathetic to even his own ears. 

Rook glances up at the top of the drive, where Senior is now standing next to Hurk and gesturing like he's waiting for them to arrive at his feet. He scowls, temper spiking at the man, situation, and his own idiocy. 

"When we finish this," Rook tells Jacob with a pointed finger, "you and I are gonna have a long sit-down chat about your self-worth and my own oblivious ass. And then we're gonna...figure out where we go from here."

Jacob nods, a small, pleased, secretive little smile spreading across his lips. 

They crawl forwards then, Rook resisting the urge to accelerate when Senior refuses to move from in front of the truck. He does make the siren wail for a split second, just enough to send him jumping back from the grille as Jacob rumbles out a laugh beside him. Rook slams the door shut, tugging his uniform into place as Jacob meets him at the front of the car.

Senior is already red-faced and Hurk motions for Rook to come grab him out of the garage once all this crap is done with. 

"I was on the road! The road counts as federal property and I _cannot_ be charged with trespassing on federally owned property."

"The road counts as federal property." Jacob says icily, voice colder than anything Rook has ever heard come out of him as he folds his arms over his chest. "Two inches from the gate to our Compound is privately owned land. I should know, I helped plan and build the fence and I made sure it was inside our property lines."

Senior huffs and puffs as Rook leans his ass against the grille, content to let Jacob handle it until it's necessary for him to step in.

"I just _know_ you hippie cult freaks are plotting against me. Puttin' more _liberals_ in office means nobody's gonna catch on to your plottin' until the whole of Hope County is under your control!"

"Eden's Gate does not have any political aspirations." Jacob says slowly, like he's addressing a particularly stupid farm animal as opposed to a grown man. "What it does have, however, is a fully armed and certified group of members who are assigned the task of protecting the flock from outside influences. Particularly those who threaten the safety and sanctity of our people."

Drubman all but hops up and down in place, wraggling his cigar at Jacob and staring at Rook.

"Did you hear that shit?! He just threatened _me!_ I want cuffs slapped on him this second!"

"He did not threaten you, Mr. Drubman." Rook rubs at the bridge of his nose. "What Mr. Seed is trying to inform you is that any further trespassing onto Eden's Gate property or harassment of its members could result in action being taken against you. Montana has stand your ground laws, and from what I understand, the flock all have partial ownership of the land as it was purchased under the Eden's Gate backing."

Jacob nods along while Drubman turns a hellish shade of almost purple. He fiddles with his cap and Rook straightens when his hand drops to his side, near his sidearm for a split second before he appears to think better of it. 

"I will not have any _knotsluts_ coming onto _my_ property with their sackless Alpha in tow to tell me what I _can_ and _cannot_ \--"

Rook punches him before he can think better of it. His arm is in motion, feet planted to make it a hard hit. Drubman goes down like a sack of potatoes just as Jacob grabs ahold of him, too late to change what happened but enough to stop whatever would have come next. Jacob pulls his arm close, both of his hands locked around Rook's bicep, tugging him a foot away by the time Drubman's sitting up with a hand on his rapidly swelling cheek. 

Rook can see Hurk bouncing from foot to foot in front of the garage, unsure if he needs to intervene and probably not wanting to. But the rest of everything is a blur, except Jacob's sharp gunpowder scent and Drubman's fucking face.

"I will have you _arrested_ , I will sue you until you are penniless and on the _streets_ , you son-of-a--"

"Enough." Jacob steps forward, voice little more than a snarl. "It is a fight you would not win. You're familiar with my brother? John? Best lawyer Montana has ever seen? Any backwater moron you pull up couldn't hope to take him in a fight. Especially not when we present the condition that you threatened a courted Omega."

Jacob reaches down, balls Drubman's shirt in his fist, the barest hint of a smile amongst his beard. As Rook watches, all that color drains straight out of Drubman's face--along with all his threats, it would seem.

"Yeah, don't think I didn't see that little twitch towards your sidearm. I might not present the image of a cowering little Omega right now but I _assure_ you, Mr. Drubman, I'm an incredibly convincing actor when need be. I'll paint the prettiest picture for the judge and jury, bow my head and curl my shoulders, cower behind Rook and tell them how _terrified_ I was when you reached for your pistol and how _cruel_ you were with your insults and how my Alpha had no choice, not really, but to step in and defend me."

Jacob's head tips, something almost animal in how he moves, and Rook can't look away. It's entrancing to see Jacob in his element like this, and Rook can very easily picture him with men under his command, following his orders with the assurance Jacob will see them through on the other side. 

It's the hottest fucking thing he's ever been privy to in his _life_ , and a tornado could rip his car right off the ground without Rook giving it so much as a single glance.

"They are going to look at me and look at Rook, an Alpha fresh from his rut, accompanying his courted Omega to settle a dispute that was started by you trespassing and threatening my people. And they are going to _laugh_ you out of that courtroom. Alternatively," Jacob pats a hand against his cheek, "you can forget this ever happened. And forget about coming anywhere near Eden's Gate or its members. Lest we _do_ have to take this to court."

He straightens up, letting Drubman fall backwards, and Rook nods discreetly to Hurk when he starts making motions to come collect his father.

"I only have one suit, Mr. Drubman." Jacob says lightly, tugging his clothing back into place like _he's_ the one who's ruffled. "I can think of better uses for it than a court date. Can't you?"

Rook follows behind in something like a daze, pausing slightly when Hurk calls for him, already trying to help his dad to his feet. Jacob's already in the car, phone pressed to his ear, probably talking to John just to cover all his bases.

"Rook, man, hey!"

"Sorry 'bout that, Hurk." Rook isn't really fucking sorry at all but Hurk is his friend. "Didn't mean for it to get physical."

"What?" Hurk tips his head, looking more like a puppy than Jacob's wolfish tilt. "No, man, I ain't asking about that. We still on for drinks later this week?"

Rook bursts out laughing just as Senior starts berating Hurk, waving goodbye and slowly backing towards his door.

"Still on for 'em! Tell you what--I'll pay your tab too!"

Rook ducks inside the car, quickly maneuvering it away from where Senior is throwing a fit and falling in it while Hurk looks mostly at the ground and seems to be just nodding along. He listens in, though he knows it's rude, unable to keep his eyes off of Jacob for longer than it takes to glance at the road. 

"--I don't _think_ he'll be causing any more issues but it never hurts to be safe. I'll double the guard duty for a while, just to ensure he can't get past the gate if he tries again. I don't want either of you there without me or accompanied by some of my Chosen."

Jacob listens in, face twisting up for a moment that has Rook frowning too. 

"I understand that John, and we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But at the moment--"

Jacob glances over then, something close to a smile playing about his lips.

"It was a sight to behold, that's for sure. I knew he was a good fighter but--" He lets out a whistle in lieu of a descriptor and that's it.

That's all Rook can take. The heat in Jacob's eyes is too much, threatening to burn both of them alive if it gets the release it clearly wants when those same eyes flicker up and down his body. Rook yanks on the wheel the same way in less than a week, feeling similar to how he did when his rut started, bringing the car to a screeching halt on the side of the road.

"Jacob." He says evenly, not looking away from where his eyes are locked out the windshield. "Hang up the phone."

There's a split second pause, barely more than the thump of a heartbeat, before Jacob murmurs out an amused, "gotta call you back, John."

The phone hits the floor split seconds before Rook's on him. Jacob twists so his back gets shoved against the window when Rook hits him like a tidal wave, hands balling up the all-too-familiar military jacket to hold him in close. There's no hesitation like there was with Joseph, Rook goes full bore, and Jacob accepts it with open arms.

And an open mouth.

"You are so fucking hot." Rook mutters, head twisting around itself with heat as Jacob's scent explodes between them, filling the cab and Rook's nose. "How could you ever think I didn't--god, just let me watch you beat the shit outta people. Best porno I could get."

Jacob laughs into his mouth, hands just as grabby, the bite of pain when his palm locks around the still healing wound on his shoulder just the right amount of grounding. 

"Come to the ring sometime. Got one up in the mountains. Me and you can go rounds and see who ends up on top."

"Fuck," Rook's hips jump just at the thought, slamming into the center console and grinding. "Please end up on top. Want you over me, all around me."

Jacob reaches down, scrambles in the footwell, and tips to the side suddenly when the seat flattens out the second his fingers find the lever. Rook plants a foot on the seat, shoving his way over as Jacob shifts, and comes down so neatly between his thighs that he offers up a prayer for whatever he did for his good fortune in this moment. Their hips don't link up quite right, Rook's just a bit higher so his cock grinds into Jacob's stomach and his presses a line of heat into Rook's thigh. 

Doesn't matter.

Doesn't even fucking matter.

"Shove me off if you--"

"Not a fucking chance." Jacob tips his head back, exposes his throat and _whines_.

It's unpracticed. It's rough, like it had to rip it's way out of his throat. Nothing like John's easy sounds or Joseph's careful searching. But it's perfect for Jacob and Rook feels something in him _break_ at the sound.

He doesn't bite down when he fits his teeth over Jacob's pulse, testing the very edge of them against the delicate skin. But it's a very near thing. Especially once Jacob's hand curves around the back of his head, fingers twisted into his hair to keep him in close, thighs hitching up around Rook's hips.

Rook finds a rhythm gentler than it would have been in other circumstances. He's still thrusting hard enough to rock the car but Jacob takes and _takes_ and doesn't complain. Doesn't push him away. Rook could do whatever he wants without worry to Jacob, be rough and brutal, and he thinks Jacob might just ask for--

"More." Jacob grits out, yanking his head up until he can beg against Rook's mouth. "Don't treat me like I'll fucking break. I want _more_."

"I'm not gonna knot you in the front seat of a police cruiser." Rook tells him breathlessly, staring in wonder as Jacob rolls his eyes like he's _annoyed_.

"Then take me to a bed. Take me to--" Jacob's mouth slams shut, eyes going half-lidded for a second like he's remembering something. "Take me wherever you want me. Extend the hand and I will let you lead me."

Those are...not Jacob's words. Said in Jacob's voice, yes, but not something that his brain came up with. 

It's enough to make Rook plant his palms against the seat back, lever himself away even as his Alpha snarls in irritation deep inside. Jacob tries to follow for a half second, like his body is moving faster than his brain, before he goes limp underneath him with a filthy curse.

"Should've just kept my fucking mouth shut."

"What...what was that?"

Jacob keeps silent, peering out the window like a sullen teenager. Like he's not a fully grown man with the barest marks of Rook's teeth in his throat and his clothes askew from greedy hands. 

"Jacob." Rook forces himself to push the order into his tone, wincing despite himself.

It works, it drags Jacob's head around. But he's pissed, lust turning to wrath in a split second.

"What. Was. That."

"Ask Joseph." He hisses, before all of the fight drains from him in a split second. "Look, any chance we can rewind back to when you pounced on me? I liked that part."

"I am...I don't know what's wrong but...this seems wrong now."

"Of course it does." Jacob scrubs his hands over his face and Rook is amazed to see the slight tremble there. "Just...ask Joseph. I want this but for answers you...you need to ask Joseph."

Rook eases himself back down, still hard but not as needful now. His cock still jerks the second it comes into contact with Jacob's body, but it's...negligible now. He's got better things to think about. 

"Hey," he whispers, reaching up to cup Jacob's cheek and drag his eyes into focus. "I don't regret this. I don't. I wanted it, I _started_ it. But something feels wrong, and I don't want anything to be wrong between us."

"Yeah," Jacob agrees on a rush, an exhausted sounding exhale. "Much as I hate it...I agree. Like I said, just--talk to Joseph."

He grins and Rook has to quickly lift his hips away with burning red cheeks when it makes his cock jerk in his pants. 

"And after you do? Come find me. I'll show you how good I can be if you give me a little more wiggle room."


	14. John's Claim

Rook doesn't get a chance to talk to Joseph. Because, as it would seem, he's dodging his calls. He's gotten a few texts in return, carefully dissuading him away from any attempts to stop by for a chat, and Rook's getting desperate.

By the time the week is up and Sunday is looming on the horizon, he's half ready to attend one of those damn sermons just to get a chance at seeing Joseph. And maybe trapping him with the societal pressures of "Father? I need a moment of your time." Joseph wouldn't say no in front of his flock, but it's a dick move. 

But you know what's not a dick move? Spending time with his good pal, John Seed. Who all but leaps at the chance when Rook invites him over for an impromptu pizza and movie night on Saturday after work.

"Guess I noticed how you looked a little perturbed that Jacob and I had a pizza night and you weren't told about it."

"I am," John says through the phone, the rush of wind in the background making Rook wonder just how fast he's driving, "a consummate little brother. I don't like to be left out."

"Let me make it up to you then." Rook laughs, already thumbing through Netflix for something they both might enjoy. "I'll wait until you get here before I order the pizza. I learned my lesson with Jacob. You'd think he would have told me he didn't like pineapple before I ordered the damn thing."

"Jacob has an unsophisticated palate." John informs him with a haughty sniff that has Rook trying to suppress his chuckles. "Did he put them all in a neat little pile and them seemingly forget about them?"

"How'd you know?"

"Because Judge is his living and breathing vacuum cleaner for everything he doesn't want to eat and if he can't feed it to him under the table he has no idea what to do anymore. He fed him lobster once! Lobster! Do you have any idea the hoops I had to jump through to get lobster in Montana and I look over to see Judge happily chomping away and Jacob looking like he'd gotten his hand stuck in the cookie jar."

"I'm taking it you're more a cat person?"

"I am not an animal person in general. I love Judge, he's the exception to a lot, but there are times I look over at the damn wolf in my living room and I want to go rip Jacob a new one."

"Whoa, wait," Rook lets his feet fall from the table as he sits upright suddenly. "Judge is an actual wolf? I always thought he was some mix--Jacob _said_ he was a Husky mix."

John goes quiet for a moment and then his voice is suspiciously even, light, like Rook is on Deputy duty and not just a friend on the other end.

"Judge is registered under the County dog licensure as a Husky/Alaskan Malamute mix. Though we are not sure of his exact lineage due to Jacob finding him as an abandoned stray, I can assure you that I would _never_ lie on official documentation, officer. He is registered to the best of our knowledge, and we wouldn't dare falsify government paperwork."

"You are so full of shit."

John laughs down the line. "I had you for a moment though! What gave me away? The officer bit?"

"You haven't called me officer since the very first time we met because you'd crashed your car into a ravine."

"There was a _spider_ on my dashboard!"

Rook shakes his head and laughs just as the background on John's end switches to nothing, the ambient and almost inaudible sounds of the outside replacing the roar of wind. He pushes himself off the couch, takes a moment to straighten his hair and shirt for no good reason other than...he wants to. Wants John to be impressed with him. He's not just inviting John over because he thinks he'll bend a little easier than Jacob will, he genuinely likes the sophisticated and silly Omega.

More than he should, in reality. But if King's right about all this shit...if everyone else is right and not just as insane as Rook had thought...

It's not totally one-sided.

John on his porch is a familiar sight and for a split second, Rook's back there once more. Back in the last vestiges of his rut, mind swirled with John's scent and barely held in check. But it clears with John's easy smile and the sweep of his eyes over Rook's form.

"Well, I feel a bit overdressed for the occasion." He says with a sweep of his hand to indicate his clothing.

Rook waves him in, catches sight of the small pattern on his duster as he eases his way past the threshold, and can't help but laugh. 

"Do you have _planes_ on your jacket?"

"I like planes." John mutters as Rook watches the delicate curve to his ear turn red.

"You're _adorable_ , you know that."

"I am a grown man." John snaps but there's no heat there. He quickly sheds his coat and all but tosses it onto the rack Grace had bought for him when she'd gotten tired of throwing her coats on the back of the couch during her visits. 

"And yet." 

John whirls around, hands on his hips, and Rook can't help but laugh with his hands held in front of him. There's a flush to his cheeks as well as his ears and John genuinely looks like he's seconds from bursting into laughter himself. He's right, Rook realizes as he gets the full frontal without the lapels of the duster in the way. He's still wearing dress pants and a button up, likely having gone and had to be a proper lawyer today while Rook got off work and took a nap before calling him up. 

He didn't bother changing out of the basketball shorts and tank top he groggily pulled one once he woke up and the dissonance in their outfits is...strangely fitting. 

Rook was never one of those Alphas who had a problem with Omegas being higher than him. Whether it be in dress or social status, he was simply happy for their accomplishments and moved on with his life. But _John_ looks decidedly uncomfortable, and that won't do. Not when this whole thing was about them relaxing together. 

"I probably have some sweats that you can borrow and tie tight, if you want? And I know my shirts will fit, I'm a bit bigger so they'll be loose but--" Rook shrugs, carefully pretending like he doesn't want to see John in his stuff. 

John grins, ear to ear, and nods. He reaches for his phone when Rook turns, hiding a blinding smile of his own, and calls just as Rook hits the stairs.

"I'll order in the pizza. What--Hawaiian?" 

"Just tell them Rook's usual, double it because I'm starving. My wallet is on the table next to the door." Rook pauses, mock glares over his shoulder at John's innocent expression. "I invited _you_. I pay. And Rachel will tell me if you do, she likes me, I tip well."

"I can tip very well too." John says with an arched brow, a sly tip to his mouth. 

"John Seed--"

"Very well!" John rolls his eyes, still grinning as he lifts the phone to his ear. "I will simply have to buy you a meal in return. Go on!"

Rook takes longer than he should to choose an outfit. In reality, he should have just grabbed for the first bit of loungewear he saw, knowing John wouldn't throw a fit no matter what he came back down with. Instead, he paws through his dresser, pushing clothes aside as he looks for the nicest pair of pants he has, ones without any stains or rips. Once he finds a black pair he bought only a month or so ago, he tucks them under his arm and heads to the closet. 

That decision doesn't take near as long. Rook's a sucker for nostalgia and there is something all too fitting about John wearing his "Combat Medic, Approach with Caution and Coffee" that his mom had bought him a few Christmases back. It's tacky and terrible but he loves it. And he wants it on John, a reminder of his past and possible future coming together.

Provided it's not a two way street and John's even interested.

He turns away from the closet and nearly jumps at the sight of John in the doorway. He'd had no idea he was coming up the stairs, ears and nose apparently not working properly, probably because he'd been thinking of what sort of shirt his mom would buy John. She loves those stupid slogan tees, he'd probably have something lawyer related. 

"Are those for me?" John asks with a tip of his head and Rook nods dumbly, trying to pull himself back into the present and a sensible state of mind.

John is inches from crossing the threshold into his bedroom. His private space. Where only a week ago Rook had ran the course of a rut with John's name on his lips more than once and. until the blanket had given up the ghost, the remnants of his scent in his nose. John's trying his best to be polite, keeping his eyes on Rook's, but they keep darting around before they bounce back.

Like he desperately wants to look but doesn't want to offend.

"John," Rook says gently, a little roughly, too pleased with the idea of John wanting to drink in his private space. "S'okay. You can look. I was gonna offer for you to get changed in here anyhow."

John looks chagrined for a second but he takes advantage the moment it's offered. His eyes leave Rook entirely, roaming around the space as he takes a cautious step forwards into the room. Rook knows it's not really the most...grown-up space in the world. He's still got posters of old movies he loved, except now they're framed instead of pinned up with push-pins he'd taken off his dad's office desk. The biggest blanket on his bed has been with him since he was a teenager, worn but warm and comfortable. It's clean...ish, a basket of dirty clothes in the corner and his gun cabinet being used as more of an end table for the odds and ends that wind up in his pocket at the end of the day. 

But John's smiling and not grimacing and that's something, right?

"You were right." He says softly. "This is...this is you, more so than the rest of your home is."

"Told you." Rook whispers as he comes closer, remembering only when John's hands lift that he's supposed to be passing something over. "Right, shit, yeah. Clothes. Here, I'm going to--"

He edges around John, starts backing out the doorway with a thumb pointed over his shoulder in case John thought he was going to exit out the damn window or something.

"I'll be downstairs. Take your time."

The sight of John, standing in his room, surrounded by everything Rook is and holding a handful of borrowed clothing in his hands, is a picture that will stay with him for a while.

He's just giving up on movies proper and going into the stand-up when John rounds the couch and settles next to him. Rook carefully slides his eyes over, not wanting to be too overt but unable to keep his eyes forward. The clothing is a little big, hanging strange and loose when John's own usually fits so neatly to his body, but it looks good. Looks warm, like John had gotten wet and cold in the snow that occasionally falls in the mountains, and Rook was doing his level best to set him back to rights.

"So, have we decided on a film?"

"I can't...really think of anything to watch." Rook says, offering the remote over. "I'm not big on movies, really. They don't hold my attention span as well as they probably intend to. You pick."

John scrolls for a few minutes before he blows out a frustrated breath. 

"I am going to sound like a spoiled child but there's _nothing_ on here that even sounds remotely interesting."

"Welcome to my hell." Rook murmurs just as the doorbell chimes.

He has to put a hand on John's shoulder, lightly press down when he makes a move to rise from the couch as well, wagging a finger at him as he scoots around the coffee table. 

"Nah-uh. Stay put."

"Yes, Alpha." John purrs at him, and Rook spins in place, finger trembling a bit when he points it in the direction of John's grin. 

"Don't _do_ that! You know I'll give you anything you want. It's manipulation, and it's terrible. You're terrible."

"I'm absolutely awful," John agrees. "Now answer the door. I'm also starved."

Rook complies with a grumble, painting on a bright and sunny smile for Rachel as the food is passed over and money is exchanged. He kicks the door closed with his heel, turns back to where John is moving aside the few magazines that litter the coffee table. He looks up when Rook comes to a stop, sheepishly gesturing to the cleared space.

"We can move to the table if you want, but I figured--"

"We'll break the rules." Rook tells him with a wink, watching as John's cheeks flush a bit. "It's not like I haven't laid on the couch and eaten off my stomach before anyhow."

John's nose wrinkles delicately as Rook plops the pizzas down. 

"Charming."

"Sometimes I don't even wear pants. Just me and my boxers and my belly snacks."

John reaches behind him, snags one of the decorative pillows that came with the couch, and whacks Rook upside the shoulder with it. 

"Hey, hey! Aren't you religious types supposed to be opposed to violence?" Rook laughs, holding up his arms to fend off another swing.

"That's Buddhists." John informs him, waiting until Rook lifts his head to check if more is coming before landing one final blow to the side of his face. "I think you'll find us Christians have a history of being rather violent indeed."

Rook carefully sits down, leaving enough space between them that he could dodge any further blows, when John tucks the pillow back behind his back and smiles benignly. There's something mischievous in his eyes though, and Rook stares for just a second too long, John clearing his throat as the barest bit of color hits his cheeks.

"So--ah--pizza?"

They each peel off a slice, relaxing back in tandem and emitting twin hums at the food once teeth sink in. John shrugs when Rook gestures to the remote now left abandoned on the table beside the boxes. 

"Couldn't find anything more amusing than you. I figured...we could just talk?"

And talk they do. About anything and everything. John's more amusing cases, the shit Rook has to deal with that warrants police intervention but really could've been solved if people had a bit more common sense. John's interest in flying, and Rook's love of swimming. The way Jacob keeps trying to take John camping, and how Rook remembers once when King managed to get _grounded_ on vacation for catching a frog with the sole purpose of slipping it into his sleeping bag at night.

It's only once Rook goes to reach for another slice and hits the bare cardboard of the box he realizes they've eaten their way through a whole pizza while chatting. John seems to realize it as well, rubbing a careful hand over his stomach. 

"I did not intend to eat that much. Tell me you ate more than me. Spare my dignity and tell me I didn't just stuff my face."

"The couch is for face stuffing." Rook tells him with a commiserating hand on his shoulder. "Next thing you know you'll be flat on your back with a bowl of goldfish on your stomach while you watch crappy B horror movies."

"Do me a favor and kill me if I ever stoop so low." John groans, tipping sideways until his head lands on Rook's shoulder. 

He stays there, doesn't move, and Rook doesn't even have to think about wrapping an arm around his waist. It comes naturally with John, like they've been together for ages and it's all second nature now. John makes a soft noise, scoots closer until their hips are pressed together, and his hand lands on Rook's knee, fingers flexing. 

Low enough that it's not inappropriate but combined with how much other touching is going on...

"So," Rook closes his eyes, licks over his lips, tries to order his racing heart to calm the fuck down. "Can I ask you something?"

John makes a hum of agreement and when Rook looks down his eyes are closed. He's not asleep yet but it's probably coming soon. Rook fights back an adoring smile; fill John's belly and he goes out like a light, just like a tiny puppy gorging themselves and then turning in to rest and digest and grow. 

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

Well. That woke him up.

John's blue eyes are wide as his head shoots up, nearly colliding with Rook's chin as he rears back out of the way. Rook watches as he flushes, gets to see the crawl of color over his skin. He blushes so easy, it's absolutely adorable. Everything about him is. He looks a bit like a startled deer, eyes darting around Rook's face like he's trying to tell if this is some sort of cruel prank.

It's not.

"You gotta say yes." Rook whispers, lifting a hand to cup against John's cheek. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do. So you gotta say yes to me if you want it, John."

If he's wrong, he's going to kill all of his friends and also his brother. For putting this insane idea in his head to begin with--that not just one Seed was interested but all three were. He's playing a dangerous game, unsure if Joseph's going to be pissed about him kissing Jacob let alone John as well. Or if John will react okay to him trying to swap spit when he'd literally made fun of him and Joseph for necking out on the porch of this very house. 

This has the potential to go really well or disastrously bad. 

But it's out of his hands now. He has, well, extended his fucking hand, as it were. Whether it gets held or slapped away now is all up to John.

Who looks a bit like he might start to cry.

"I had thought--you were always so contained, and I didn't--I wanted but I _never_ honestly thought that you would make the first--"

"John." Rook edges closer, just a few inches, but it's enough that he can smell the lingering sauce and pepperoni on John's breath. "Say yes. Just...say yes."

John closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and breathes out a "yes" that's so much like a whine Rook couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to.

He tastes a bit like pizza, probably just like Rook himself does, but underneath that it's fruit. Like John had been chewing gum at some point. Rook swallows back the second whine that slips free, the hand he's not using to keep John's head where he wants it stroking slow over his shoulder, down his ribs, to rest on his hip. Slow enough that John could stop him if he wanted to. The man in question shifts, one knee bracing under him as he leans into Rook's body, the hand on his knee being used as a brace so he doesn't go tipping over. 

Obviously stopping isn't on the agenda then.

Rook accepts his weight when John pushes further, thighs parting over his hips as easy as breathing, John's weight settling down onto his lap like he's meant to be there. Long fingers sink into Rook's hair, tugging his head this way and that for better angles. John's very, very _good_ at kissing, and the thought of that talented mouth on other parts of Rook's body has his hips arching up into John's ass.

"You're hard." John notes with a breathless sort of grin, barely pulling away enough to talk against Rook's mouth. "You want me."

"You thought, for a split second, I didn't?" Rook growls when John hums an unsure note. "I want every fucking part of you. Why do you think I wouldn't let you near me in my rut? I would've put you on your back and had you screaming for me in an instant."

"Mmm, let's do that next time. Don't hold yourself back on my account." John moves, trailing kisses over his cheek and down until there's the barest hint of teeth against his pulse.

Rook nearly knocks himself out on the back of the couch trying to expose his throat, give John more room to work. He's never gotten pissy about Omegas that go for the throat, figuring fair's fair at the very least. But there's something more here, a deeper need than just ambivalence. He _wants_ John to bite him. Wants him to mark him up until Rook's getting stares from every Deputy in the department because the collars on his uniform don't go nearly high enough to hide them.

He'd wear John's bites with the pride he thinks John might wear his, if he ever gets lucky enough to put teeth to that perfectly untouched skin of his throat.

"We should probably stop." Rook mutters when his hips jump at the harsher press of teeth closer to his collarbone. "I'm getting--you've got me worked up."

"That was the plan." John tells him, laving his tongue against the small sting. "I'm in no better position here."

Thank god his pants don't fit tight on John. They're loose, the fabric obediently moving aside when Rook lets his cock do the thinking for a second and shoves a hand down the back of them. John's not wearing underwear--whether he took them off when he got dressed or just _doesn't_ , Rook isn't sure--and it makes his head spin, go light and airy like it might pop off and float away. He groans when his fingers find slick heat. He can't stop from brushing up against the source of it all, John making a quiet noise above him like all the air just vanished from his lungs.

"Yes," John hisses, straightening up when Rook sinks a cautious and slow finger inside, hips rolling like he wants to ride something far thicker. "Yes, _yes_. I want it--do it. Do whatever you want to me."

"Extend the hand." Rook murmurs, watching carefully as John's eyes roll back in his head.

"Please. I need--I _need_."

They both need, and it's going to reach a boiling point here fast if Rook doesn't calm him down. He's not going to have his first time with John be on the couch, John deserves better. But he's also not going to shove John off of him right now and John doesn't look like he has even the slightest plans towards moving away. 

Rook drags his hand free, John's eyes snapping to him with a confused sound tumbling free. Rook locks gazes with him, holds him in place by sight alone, and slips his fingers into his mouth. 

John tastes like the best thing he's ever had on his tongue. Sharp but sweet. He wants more, wants it all over his face, down his throat until he's choking on it.

Much like John chokes on air when Rook hollows his cheeks around the two, slowly dragging them out until they're free with a pop. He seems at a loss for a moment, just staring in wonder, hips grinding his cock into Rook's stomach like he's forgotten he's doing it. And then he's dragging Rook back in with both hands on his cheeks, needy and almost sloppy like he's so desperate to taste himself on Rook's tongue it's taking away all his careful motions. 

"Put me under you." John begs. "Do whatever you want to me. Please just--take me. Knot me. Fuck me until neither of us can even think about moving."

"Not now." Rook says, guides him back with thumbs pressing into the sensitive divots on either side of his hip bones. "Not right now. Soon. But I can't right now."

"Why _not?_ "

"Because first, I need you to tell me why it's so damn important that I be the one to make the first move."

Everything stops. John's little twitches, the harsh inhales and exhales of his breath. His eyes flutter, close, pinch tight like he's trying to contain himself and it's not working.

"Ask Joseph." He says finally and Rook resists the urge to shake him a little.

"I'm not with Joseph right now, I'm with you. And I'm asking you."

"And I am telling you that I am not the one you need to talk to about it!" John's face crumples for a split second before it flattens out into an impersonal mask. "Is that why you asked me here? All of this--you just wanted information?"

Shit.

"Baby, honey, no, no, no." Rook tips them over, onto their sides, one arm thrown over John's back when his head tucks immediately under his chin. "No, how could you ever think--No. I wanted you here because I like you, John, I like you a whole hell of a lot. I wanted this, every single bit of it. I just also wanna know what the actual fuck is going on."

"You have to talk to Joseph." comes the quiet response from somewhere around his throat. "I don't know--talk to him. He knows. I don't."

"You know something." 

"Can we go back to kissing?" John complains and Rook's laughing, talking before he fucking thinks about it.

"That's exactly what Jacob asked when I tried to interrogate him about it."

"You kissed Jacob?"

Shitshitshit.

"I--uh--I kissed Joseph too! And it just means that I like all of you! And I didn't do it on purpose, I'm not some kinda--some kinda weirdo brotherly homewrecker. I figured since nobody said anything about dating, not that I'd say no to the idea of dating it's just--there were no commitments, and that doesn't mean I feel free to go around kissing whoever I want, it's literally only been you three for...an embarrassingly long period of time. I mean, except if you count that time last Christmas where I got super drunk off the spiked punch at the station party and tried to go through the doorway at the same time as the Sheriff and there was mistletoe and my coworkers are _assholes_ but--"

"You kissed me _last?!_ "

What.

"You can't be serious." Rook looks down into John's pouting glare. 

"Were you purposefully going in some weird pecking order? Couldn't you have gone in reverse so I was first for _once?_ "

"Are you..."

Rook starts laughing. He can't help it. He laughs so hard he feels John's body shake where it's pressed against his, amusement shared by sheer physical proximity. He can hear John huffing at him, poking lightly at his ribs until one finger catches a more sensitive area and he twitches away. 

John follows because this is Rook's life. Trying to figure out what in the fuck three powerful Omega brothers want with him, why they have some shared agreement that he start whatever fire they'll all burn in, all while trying to pick one of them because society tells him he should and arguing with the Alpha inside who doesn't give a shit about society and wants them all. And what's he doing when he should be having some deep internal conversations with what he used to believe were the rules of life vs the new world starting to open up in front of him?

Being tickled by an Omega who has somehow managed to double his weight in a split second. 

Not like he'd be able to push John hard enough to shove him off anyhow. 

"At least tell me I'm the first to put you on your back." John orders in between Rook's hysteric almost giggles. "Tell me I got that right."

Rook thinks back, grimaces. 

"Y-Yes?"

"Lying is sin." John informs him before all ten fingers dig into Rook's sides.

He's in pain by the time he begs for mercy, hands fisted in the material of John's pants, trying to lever him up and off. His cheeks hurt, jaw aches, the muscles in his stomach more worn out than they'd been after the movement of his hips during rut. John collapses down on him, pinning him in place, their chests pressed together as John nuzzles into the curve of his throat.

"I'd like to be the first to do...something. Anything."

"You really like being first, huh?" Rook asks, thinking of John's status at graduation, his ranking in Hope County, the general air of competitiveness that lingers around him. 

A thought occurs and Rook groans as he gets hard again in the span of less than an hour. He thought he was over this bullshit.

Guess it just took a couple good Omegas to make him feel like a teenager again.

"You can bite me if you want." He says softly, cups a hand around the back of John's head, sinks fingers into his hair. "I won't mind. I kinda--well, I think I'd like it. Walking around Hope County, going about my life...with your marks in my neck."

John doesn't hesitate. Rook doesn't need to ask twice. There's the barest flicker of a tongue against his pulse, like a snake testing the area, before John's teeth sink in so fast and hard it steals the breath from his lungs on a gasp. His fingers flex, catch and twist in the fabric over John's sides until he can force it up and wrap his hands around John's waist. John's teeth grind in, jaw working like he's almost ready to rip flesh from bone, before he releases with a quiet sigh.

Rook shudders more at the gentle kiss John leaves in the middle of the teeth marks than he did at the initial bite.

"First Omega to ever put teeth to me like that." He mumbles, raising a hand to trace the indents, one coming away wet where the sharp point of a canine dug in deep. "How's it feel?"

"Feels like I want to do it again." 

By the time John sits up on him, Rook's a mess. He can feel the ache all over. John had only put the one on his neck but there are so many others now. On the jut of his collarbone, over the curve of his shoulder, one particularly deep one that throbs over the point of his hip. His shirt's on the floor, long discarded to give John room to work, and his face holds an expression Rook's never seen before.

Prideful ownership. Like he'd finally found the perfect collar for his treasured pet and is admiring the way it looks on them.

"Let me tattoo you." John says quietly, fingers tracing over the same skin he'd touched what feels like months ago. 

"A crown?"

"Anything. I want to leave a mark that's more...permanent."

"How about J and S," Rook reaches up captures John's wrist and drags his fingers down until they're just to the side of the most prominent bite on his hip. "I'm thinking they'd look real good right about here. What does the artist think of that?"

"On the hilt of a sword," John says distantly, voice a bit strained, scent swelling until Rook's nose twitches with citrus overload. "A flaming sword. The sword of the Archangel Michael. Patron saint of chivalry. It suits, I think."

"Will you let me put one on you?"

"Jacob wants a rook on his forearm." John says with a spreading smile. "Joseph hasn't said anything but I can tell he wants one as well. He'll probably have it somewhere absurd like on his throat. My brother is...one for the dramatics, that's for certain."

"And you?" Rook dances lazy fingers up John's forearm, over all the ink that already decorates his skin. "Is there even any room?"

"I could put it on my ass cheek, I suppose."

He laughs and it's even lazy somehow. 

"Be serious."

John tips his head down, considers, eyes still sparkling with amusement. 

"On my hip, of course. Same as you. Matching but not really matching."

"Cute." Rook shifts, sinks deeper in the cushions, and sighs. "So you're really not going to tell me what's up? I have to talk to Joseph to figure out why you guys kept tiptoeing around until I got a clue? Which, by the way, I barely have right now. All I know is I have three super hot Omegas who are okay with me chasing after them all at the same time. Or, at least, you are. I dunno about your brothers."

"If we had kept on tip-toes the entire time, we would have broken our feet. We're all fine with it, though. You can ask, I know you will, but for growing up with as little as we did, we share incredibly well. And as for your understanding, I'm surprised you finally caught on when you did. You are...incredibly oblivious."

"I've been told that a time or two." Rook says with a grin as John snorts. 

"I'll just bet you have. But yes. Joseph is the one with the Vision. Joseph sees the strings that control this world and he is the messenger, the Father to guide us. You want your answers?" John runs hands up his chest until he runs out of skin, folding them behind Rook's head when he lifts it and pressing a gentle kiss to his chin. "You go ask the Father for them."

"Do I have to call him Father? Because while I have a few kinks...that's not actually one of them."

"If you call Joseph 'Daddy'," John says while pressing his smile into Rook's throat, "I will buy you a new truck."

"I like my truck though."

"It could be better. There's a new version out."

"Is this a thing you do? Buy stuff for people? Is that why you kept trying to buy me stuff when I was helping you out?" 

John hums, "Only for people I _really_ like."

"Guess I should count myself lucky then." Rook stretches best he can, one foot falling flat to the floor under the lack of space. "You know, that mark isn't gonna fade by the time I see Joseph. Was thinking of coming to the sermon tomorrow up at the Compound, provided the offer's still there. He won't be mad you did it?"

"You gave permission. Extended hands and all."

"I get the feeling...you like to find yourself loopholes." Rook murmurs as John laughs.

"I am a lawyer, after all. It's sort of my job." He sobers slightly, but there's still a softness about him when he pushes up to stare down. "Come to the sermon. Hear the words of Eden's Gate. Speak to Joseph. After that...everything will change and I think it will change for the best."

"Tomorrow." Rook grins, glances outside where it's settled into night while they've spent their time together. "Hey...how would you feel about spending the night? I'll be a perfect gentleman, I swear. Just wouldn't feel right sending you out the door after I've made you all complacent and lazy."

"And if I don't _want_ the perfect gentleman?"

"I thought I was supposed to talk to Joseph first?"

John rolls his eyes, groans, and collapses back onto Rook's chest. They lay in silence for a while, Rook dragging lazy fingertips up and down John's back.

"Yes. I'll stay. I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave."

"It won't feel right with just us."

"That's...a curious thing to say."

John grunts, slaps at his side, presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw like he's apologizing for it. 

"Talk. To. Joseph."


	15. Joseph's Collapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely Beta made the mistake of going to Comic Con this weekend and I am never to be trusted when left unsupervised! (Joseph is still Joseph, cult or no. And heavy handed sermons are kinda his thing)

Rook's not used to this. He grew up Catholic, which meant church was a lot of uncomfortable clothes, trying to bury any coughs or sneezes lest he get glared at by the old ladies in the pew before him, and feeling like he knees were going to stop bending altogether--if they ever stopped hurting. He knew Eden's Gate wasn't nearly as serious with how they worshipped, not as steeped in rituals, but this is still...

Odd.

"You know, there isn't some fashion award to be one here." John leans in close, lips brushing his ear as he whispers. "You don't have to keep fixing your clothes. You look fine."

"I should've put on like...a jacket or something."

"Rook. It's already mid-eighties."

Rook sighs, stops, moves off to the side to let the crowd that's slowly pouring into the open doors of the church pass through. John goes with him, practically attached to his side since last night, and Rook offers him a grateful smile for the barely there push of blueberry lemon. He blows out a breath, glances down at his clothes, idly traces a finger over the low collar of his button up.

He knows everyone can see John's mark. He's not ashamed of it. But he wishes he could've seen Jacob and Joseph before the sermon--church is a hell of a place to see where baby brother put teeth to skin. 

It's less his casual dress and more who's inside the church that's making him nervous. He hadn't seen Joseph, the man still hasn't replied to any of his messages. And it feels almost too close to pushing to show up here, invited but unexpected, knowing Joseph will be trapped by the expectations of good manners. 

"I shouldn't be here." He whispers. "I shouldn't have come without telling Joseph about it."

"Oh, _that's_ what you're worried about?" John waves a hand. "I told them last night!"

Rook winces. That's...not actually better. Joseph might not even _be_ here now then. He certainly seems determined to dodge any other interactions with Rook.

"Thanks for that." Rook says, hurries to fix his tone when John's grin falls in an instant. "No, sorry, you were right. Thank you for doing that. Sorry--I'm just--"

"Rook," John steps in front of him, forces his eyes up by dipping his head until Rook complies. "You know that there is no obligation to this, yes? Eden's Gate takes souls that are offered willingly. We do not...force or harvest. This can be the first of many you attend or it could be the last. Either way, we will hold no ill will towards you."

John thinks he's losing his shit because Rook doesn't want to join the church?

Fucking hell, and people thought _he_ was oblivious.

Either way...it's one hell of a way out that he's being offered and never let it be said Rook looks gift horses in the mouth.

"Right." He pastes on a grin, dials it back when John rears back slightly like he's showing way too many teeth. "Okay. Thank you. We should...go inside? Find a seat?"

John nods and slips his hand inside Rook's, easy as pie, gently leading him through the doors. Joseph isn't there quite yet, the pulpit empty, but Jacob's lingering near the very front, talking to a younger man with hair pulled back into a messy bun. Like he was trying to copy Joseph but had no single clue about hair maintenance or what features went well with longer locks. Rook's amused until John leads him through the gathered--pausing every now and then to greet a familiar face or let a child dart across the aisle in front of them--and they get close enough for him to catch a scent and then all the amusement goes out the window.

The man--the _kid_ , he looks like he can't even grow a proper beard yet--is an Alpha. An Alpha who's standing just a little too close to Jacob, smiling just a little too widely, scent just a hair too thick for mixed company.

Rook never used to be a jealous sort of person. But whatever monster rears its head up and _howls_ in his chest doesn't give a shit what he _used to_ be. It's more concerned with what he is now and what he is now is six seconds from airlifting the kid back a few pews. 

Far the fuck away from Jacob.

"Morning!" He greets, probably too loudly given the way John makes a soft noise at his side and Jacob arches a brow in his direction. "Jacob, our usual seats? Glad you snagged them for us."

The other Alpha turns, flickers his eyes up and down, and Rook bites back a snarl when his gaze lands on the mark on his throat with a satisfied sort of realization. He knows he smells like John, probably over his own scent that's eeking out despite him fighting for control. He turns back towards Jacob, like he's effectively dismissing Rook as Not Competition because he so clearly belongs to John.

Guess what, asshole, Rook's got a brand new greedy side and, unlike the Seeds, he doesn't share well. At all.

Rook lets go of John's hand, edges himself between the two until he can sling an arm around Jacob's shoulders and gesture to the crowd that's still slowly filling the pews.

"So, who'd you come with? Family? Friends? A mate?" He asks the other Alpha who's frowning slightly and shifting like he wants to butt Rook out of the conversation.

Good fucking luck.

"My sister." He mutters finally, waving back towards where a young woman with the same dark brown hair is chatting with a few other members of the flock. "She was the one who suggested I come talk to Jacob about training. Said he could make a good soldier out of anyone."

"Yeah, Jacob is--Jacob's kinda amazing." Rook sees John tap into what he's doing and silently pleads for him to stay quiet as he pats an absent hand against Jacob's chest. "It's the total focus he has, y'know? Joseph oughta do sermons on how to be like Jacob. No distractions with silly stuff like dating or drinking or anything. Just 100% dialed into what he does for Eden's Gate."

Go. Away. Jacob doesn't have time for you. 

The other Alpha squints at him, like he's finally picking up what Rook's putting down, and Rook resists the urge to snarl when his shoulders drop, purposefully casual as he waves a hand around the chapel.

"The Father _has_ done sermons on focus and working hard. You might have missed that one--you don't look particularly familiar? I don't think I've seen you at a lot of the worship sessions before."

You little sonofabitch. Rook has never started a fistfight in a church before. But today seems like a good enough day to try something new. 

John steps in then, probably because Rook lets out a snarl that has Jacob's shoulders going stiff under his arm, carefully not touching the other Alpha when he puts himself between Rook and him. 

"Deputy Wylde is a rather busy man, Matthew, though I suppose we should all be grateful you're not more familiar with the law enforcement of Hope County. We all know how well some of our members know them. But as we sit here and _speak_ of sermons, we risk missing the one starting soon. You should go take your place with your sister, I'm sure there will be time later when you can discuss some potential training with Jacob. I think he's looking for a new batch of recruits anyhow."

The Alpha--fucking _Matthew_ , what unimaginative ass parents gave him that name?!--looks torn for a second before he nods, mouth opening like he wants to say something before it snaps close after a glance at Rook. He spins on his heel, stomps back to where his sister is, and all but throws himself into the pew.

Rook has to fist his free hand in the back of John's shirt to avoid flipping him off when he glares in his direction. It leaves him basically with an arm around each brother when John turns to face him, eyes glittering and mouth already curved into a wide smile.

"Possessive." He murmurs softly. "Not a trait I expected."

"You," Rook tells him, tipping his chin up pointedly, "have absolutely _no_ room to talk."

"So I see." Jacob's hand lifts and his fingers are gentle when they trace over the bruises. "Of the two, I didn't expect you to be the one to come back with teeth marks."

"I was the perfect gentleman last night."

"Yes." John's voice is irritated, as is the roll of his eyes. "He was. Despite my best efforts."

And they were damn good efforts. John snuggled up against his side in bed, a line of warmth and shifting limbs, was hell on Earth for Rook. He'd wound up sleeping with a pillow between his knees--which was hell on his hips this morning--just so he could wave away anything firm that might press between them in the middle of the night. He knows John had wanted more, _he'd_ wanted more too, but he wasn't going to do anything until he figured out what the hell was going on.

Nothing until he talked to Joseph. 

Though this little interlude has been telling enough. Jacob doesn't seem offended that John put teeth to him and marked him up and John isn't trying to get between Rook and Jacob in an attempt to dislodge the arm around his shoulders. 

So they _do_ share well. At least in terms of whatever weirdo type of coaxed courting is going on. 

But that's two. And the most important piece is still missing.

"Sermon starts soon." Jacob murmurs, a hand on Rook's lower back to drag his attention away from John's pout. "We should actually sit."

He arches a brow, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth.

"In, apparently, our usual seats."

"I panicked and I got mad." Rook flushes at Jacob's hum. "Just--sit. We should sit. I think we should all sit down."

He winds up settled between Jacob and John, Jacob on the very end of the pew near the aisle and John tucked in tight to whisper about how the sermons usually go. The song that's being played on the organ now is usually the call to settle, to prepare, to finish up any conversations and get into their seats before the Father emerges from the small room behind the pulpit. It's something sweet, something soft, and Rook finds himself humming along just as it comes to a natural end. 

Nobody stands when Joseph emerges and strides to the pulpit and Rook subtly shifts his weight off of his feet and back onto his ass. They should be standing, Joseph warrants the attention, but he's not going to be the only asshole on his feet. He looks...odd, though that could be just because he's wearing the same clothes he wore to dinner at Rook's and the sight of the V in his vest, where Rook had hooked his fingers and dragged him forwards, makes something strange in his belly flip flop. 

Odd but not bad. If Rook thought Joseph was in his element simply being inside the church, it's like he's a whole new man when he's preaching. He _glows_ , and his scent fills the space until Rook's slumped back in his seat, spine feeling like it disconnected from the rest of his muscles.

"Brothers and sisters, welcome! I see many faces that are familiar to me and some that are new." His eyes light on Rook for a split second before they bounce away. "And I welcome all of you the same. Today's teaching is about...trusting in God's plan. About putting your faith into what our Lord has laid out for you before any of you were even born, the path that he carved out in this world for each and every one of you."

Fitting. Very fitting. So either this is tailored to Rook...or he has really goddamn good timing for his first visit to the church.

Rook drowns out the words for a moment as Joseph walks up and down the aisles, listening more to the pleaing cadence of his voice as it rises and falls. He's distantly aware of Joseph urging the gathered to dispel their fears, to suffocate their worries in the knowledge that the Lord will not lead them astray. His proclamations that they are not there by choice or idle decision, but rather because this is where they are _supposed_ to be, that this is all part of the path.

But his focus is on how Joseph looks. His shoulders are slumped slightly, like he's sinking under the weight of something. He's animated as he speaks but there's...something about his movements. They're sloppy. Not nearly as controlled as he usually is. Rook could chalk it up to him getting lost in his religious fervor if not for the way he catches Jacob's eyes tracking the same things with brows down low. 

It's not until Joseph whirls at the very front, mere feet away from Rook, and throws his hands up, the congregation cheering about something that's lost in Rook's sinking realization.

Those yellow glasses, ones that help Joseph avoid the migraines he frequently gets--after his horrific beating by people that are dead on sight if Rook ever gets his hands or gun sight on them--aren't just protecting his eyes. They're _hiding_ something. 

Namely, circles so dark it looks like Joseph was up all last night.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Was he so worried about John staying with him? So terrified John or Rook would do something?

John seems to realize it at the same time Rook does, leaning across him slightly and tapping at Jacob's leg to pull his attention around the next time Joseph's preaching near the back of the chapel.

"He looks _exhausted_. Was he that worried I'd do something? Did he sleep a single wink?" 

Jacob looks like he might hit John upside his head, and Rook intervenes, keeps his voice to little more than a breath.

"Did he think _I'd_ do something? I'm okay, I'm far enough from rut, I'm solid."

"Rook is at the chapel for the first time. Attending a sermon after so long. Joseph spent all damn night prepping this." Jacob tells him both, pushing John back to upright and gently elbowing Rook in the stomach when his arm passes back over. "So you might just wanna pay attention."

Rook obeys because he's a good person. But he puts a huge red flag reminder in his head to force Joseph to lay down and take a nap or something later because he's a good boyfriend.

Datemate. Court-er. 

Whatever the fuck he is to the three at this point.

"I want you all to think on things you fear in your life. Close your eyes and imagine the uncertainties, the terror when you look into the future. And I want you to extend your hand towards your own fears."

Well. Fuck.

Joseph reaches out and while his fingers stretch towards the church doors, Rook can't help but feel as though he's reaching for something in particular.

Or someone.

He sees the others in the congregation copy his movements, fingers brushing the shoulders of those in front of them, knuckles hitting the backs of pews. John has his eyes closed at his side and one arm outstretched, the other hand clenched tight around Rook's. Jacob isn't as overt but even his hand is off his thigh, fingers stretched wide. It looks more like he's waiting for Judge to tuck his head up under his palm.

But still. He's waiting.

"I want you to know there is a hand there to grasp your own. There is _always_ a hand--be it one of your brothers or sisters, your family, or someone else who loves you. Perhaps even God, who will grasp you and pull you to where He wants you to be. Where you _need_ to be."

Joseph's eyes slide open, slow, voice still urging his flock to reach out. Extend the hand. Know that it will be grasped.

Rook waits until that jumpy gaze lands on him and slowly, deliberately, reaches out towards Joseph. Palm facing up, like he could perfectly fit Joseph's hand in his own were they just a bit closer. And he closes his eyes.

And waits.

"Occasionally, we must be patient. We must wait. And that wait may be painful. It may be _torturous_." Joseph's voice is wrecked, reedy and wet like he's barely choking back sobs. "And we may feel as thought the end shall never come. As though we will suffer as we do, as we have been, for an eternity. But if we _trust_ and if we have _faith_ , we will open our eyes to find we are on the path that God had set for us. Nearing the destination that was always planned. And therein we shall find a paradise to rival that where the angels trod."

Rook exhales softly when a hand slowly slips into his own. Joseph grips onto him so hard he thinks he might break a finger, but he holds on tight, doesn't wince or pull away. He spreads his legs slightly, knees knocking into John and Jacob at the same time, and instantly there are two more hands on his arm. Calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist, ink marked hand folded over where Joseph and Rook's fingers are wound together.

"The path is not always clear. Sometimes it is muddled, difficult to see, difficult even more so to _trust_. You may have doubts. You may think you've somehow found the wrong path. You may even think you've wandered so far from that which God has planned that you have ruined everything."

Rook hadn't seen. Hadn't seen anything until it was almost too late, despite the near screams of people trying to _make_ him see.

He'd thought it was all in ruin. That the Seeds never wanted to see him again.

He'd thought there was no way in the world that the tiny voice in the back of his head--that demanded not one, not two, but _three_ brothers--was anything more than a greedy fantasy given airtime. 

Rook had thought there was no possible way _this_ was the plan for him.

"God does not make mistakes. Men do. And we are but men. Which is why we must extend our hand, admit our mistakes and our fears. We must allow God to guide us onto the path of our future."

He's not so sure about allowing God to guide him...but he's perfectly fine with letting the Seeds do it.

Rook tips his eyes up, catches sight of the way Joseph is staring down just as his eyes go unfocused behind the lenses. Slide off to the side, loll back like he's fighting within himself to keep them on a target. His body is swaying slightly, like he's hearing a song no one else can.

Or like his knees are giving out. 

Rook notices the signs just in time, is on his feet already when Joseph's eyes roll back in his head and his legs buckle underneath his weight. Their bodies collide when Rook shoves his arms out, nearly knocking him back onto his ass in the pew if not for the immediate hand Jacob plants on his lower back to give him balance. To brace them both.

John jumps to his feet, a little pale, just as startled gasps and cries of "The Father!" start to spread like wildfire. He marches to the front of the aisle and, as easy as breathing, takes control of the crowd. Within moments -- long enough for Rook to hoist Joseph's limp form up into his arms, adrenaline surging through his veins more than enough to carry even Joseph's solid weight -- the gathered are back in their seats and looking like they'll stay there.

Though their eyes track everything and miss nothing, including the way Jacob makes no moves to take Joseph from Rook and instead stalks ahead, clearly confidant Joseph is right where he needs to be.

Still, John keeps them all under control with ease, looking like this was the plan all along. Silver tongued man indeed. Rook's going to buy him all the pizza he wants for this little stunt.

"Out the front door." Jacob catches his elbow when Rook starts towards the space behind the pulpit. "They've already seen him go down. Let them see his Alp--let them see that he's being taken care of."

Yeah, like Rook didn't catch that little slip up?

He might have been oblivious before but now? Now he's sharp as a tack. _Especially_ , when it comes to what the Seeds _aren't_ saying. 

But what's he going to do? Say no? Argue with Jacob?

It takes a surprisingly short amount of time to get Joseph out of the chapel and into the backseat of Jacob's truck. But then again, the members of Eden's Gate are all but falling over themselves to lend a hand. Rook slides into the backseat, carefully lifting Joseph's head to pillow it on his lap, nodding at the Beta with wide eyes and pale skin who urges him to "please, please take care of The Father" before shutting the door.

Jacob drives like a bat out of hell, speeding towards Seed Ranch so fast Rook would have ticketed him if his heart wasn't currently in his throat. Blue eyes catch his in the rearview, determined and dark and a little scared.

"He was up all night. Barely ate dinner. Probably didn't eat a damn thing this morning between when I left and when he stepped foot into the church. Wanted the sermon to be perfect, said it _had_ to be."

"It didn't have to be anything." Rook says softly, just as Joseph shifts in a way that's independent of the truck's movement on the road and drags his attention away. "Joseph? Are you up?"

"Did I fall asleep?" comes the slurred response from where Joseph's face is buried against his stomach.

"More like passed out." Jacob snaps from the front seat--but there's considerably less stress in his face when he glances back. 

"Mmm, had to be perfect. No sleep. Just listening. Seeing." Joseph nuzzles forward, one shaky hand lifting to grip a handful of the shirt covering Rook's side. "Y'smell good."

Well. That's a hint if he ever heard one. And the most forthright Joseph has ever really been with him.

Rook compliantly relaxes his hold on his scent, hears both brothers inhale deep as it floods the cabin. He raises a hand, pets it down Joseph's side, ribs to hip to thigh, and repeats when it earns him a soft sigh. Joseph tips his head slightly, enough that he can look up over the askew rim of his glasses.

"Did you like the sermon? It was your first, I tried to make it--it had to be perfect."

Rook swallows back a sigh, nods, slips his hand around so he's rubbing gently at Joseph's nape. Thumb playing about where a mating mark would go. Purposefully tipping the scales in his favor. 

"I loved it. But you know what I'd love more?"

Joseph looks almost drunk as he hums in question, eyes slipping half closed, body limp and lax against him. 

"I'd love it if you let me take you home and put food in your belly. And I'd _really_ love it if you let me get you cleaned up, into some comfy clothes, and into bed for a few hours. Or more."

Joseph's eyes roll back in his head for the second time, and Rook nearly sets him upright, just in case he's going to be sick or something. But he emits the smallest of moans and cuddles even closer and--Oh.

Alright then. 

_Don't get an erection, you hormonal fuckstick._

Rook's interrupted from slinging any more abuse at his defenseless cock by the ringing of his phone. He has to tip his hips to get at it, carefully drags it free as Joseph clings to him and huffs at the movements. Rook winds up whispering apologies, petting along his side once more, even as he answers and tips the phone to his ear.

"John? Everything okay?"

"I should be asking _you_. How is Joseph? Is he conscious?" John sounds strained, like he's been trying to keep level for too long and it's finally cracking. 

"Yes. And he's fine." Rook glances down with a small smile, one that earns him a quiet purr and the barest swell of mint scent in the air. "Exhaustion and low blood sugar more than likely. Along with some dehydration and Joseph just generally not knowing when to stop. Jacob's taking us back to the ranch, I'm going to put him in a bath and then bed. After some good food, of course."

"Use the downstairs tub, the big one. And there should be fresh fruit on the counter. Orange juice in the fridge. He likes peanut butter toast, that's good for that, right?" John's mind must be going a million miles a minute alongside his mouth. "I can meet you there. Do I need to call anyone for you? When do you work?"

Rook huffs out a laugh, even as Joseph grunts and clings tighter, like the idea of Rook leaving irritates even in his weakened state. 

"Got a midnight shift tonight. No worries. He'll be right as rain by the time I leave, I promise." Rook thinks on John's stress response, how eager he seems to be given a task. "But if you want, if you wouldn't mind? Can you swing by my place and grab my uniform? Spare key's under the welcome mat. That way I can leave straight from the house tonight?"

"Of course! Of course, yes. Is there anything else you need? Well, no, I suppose you can use anything we have at the house."

John's spiraling quick, and Rook cuts him off with a purr and an order, one that makes Joseph shiver and cling tight.

"John. Bring me my uniform and come back to the house. I'd like all my Seeds in one place, please."

"Yes, Alpha." John breathes, and then there's the immediate click in his ear, like John's too busy focusing on his given task to even bother with goodbyes.

Jacob's eyes are warm in the rearview, and Rook offers him a soft smile as the truck comes to a stop in front of the Ranch. Judge is on the porch, tail cautiously wagging back and forth and picking up speed when Jacob opens his door. He sets off towards the house, getting the front door open and ushering Judge inside as Rook pops his door open and pets a hand down Joseph's arm to get his attention.

"Hey, I'm gonna carry you inside and downstairs. But I need you to sit up for just a minute so I can get out and get ahold of you."

Joseph complies sleepily, like he's halfway to bed in his mind. Rook gets his feet underneath him, accepts Joseph when he tips his weight out of the truck, and makes a silent promise to wash Jacob's truck tomorrow when he's forced to push the door shut with his boot. Joseph clings, arms around his neck, head tucked up under Rook's chin, and Rook firmly ignores how much it feels right to carry him over the threshold of the house. Jacob's already in the kitchen, busy scooping freshly cut fruit into a bowl, and Rook pauses, clears his throat to drag his head around. 

"I can feed him in the bath?"

"Yeah, downstairs. First door on the right." Toast pops up on the counter and Jacob quickly slathers them with peanut butter, tossing them onto a plate and all but shoving it into Joseph's hands. "Eat that on your way down. Might just keep you awake long enough for Rook to get you into the bath."

Joseph complies sullenly, like he's agitated Jacob is hovering, but Rook makes a soft noise, stopping Jacob when he goes to stride back to the counter and leaning forward to brush a soft kiss over his cheek. Jacob's cheeks go red instantly, eyes a bit wide when he steps back.

"You're a peach. Thank you, Jacob. Grab some water for him too?" He eyes Jacob's eyes, the way they're more subtly ringed in red, not exhausted but bone tired nonetheless. "And then go grab a shower yourself? And come find us? He's not the only one who needs some rest."

Joseph chews silently as they follow Jacob's instructions, Rook trudging down the stairs and through the door into a bathroom that's absolutely massive. It's the size of a bedroom and Rook gets the distinct impression that it used to be one before John and his tendency towards luxury got ahold of it. By the time they're inside and the door is half shut behind them, Joseph's bright eyed once more and his cheeks are colored as Rook sets him gently against the counter. His knees take his weight but Joseph seems to sag for another reason as Rook steps back to regard him.

"I...cannot apologize enough. I meant for this experience to end with you wanting to return to our church. Not for it to end with you carrying me from it like a child."

"Oh, I dunno." Rook tosses a smile over his shoulder as he starts to adjust the water temperature, plugging it once it's just warm enough it should relax Joseph without doing anything to his blood pressure. "If I get to carry you out of the church each time I go, might just show up a little more often."

Joseph tucks the last bit of toast into his smile, tongue flickering out to lick a bit of peanut butter on his thumb as he slowly straightens until his weight is on his own feet and not the sink. Rook steps forward, fingers going to Joseph's buttons once he sees how much he struggled opening his vest. Joseph frowns, bats at him gently but immediately stops when Rook shoots him a mock glare. 

"Hey, I carried you all the way here. I think I deserve a little undressing action."

"You may have anything you wish." Joseph says softly, intensely, and there's the double speak again. "Though I fear I would not make the best partner right now."

"I'm joking, Joseph." Rook leans forward, presses a kiss against his temple. "C'mon. Get outta these clothes and into the bath."

Joseph naked does odd things to Rook's head. Makes him cagey, edgey, like something in him is looking for threats even in the bathroom of the house. It also does things to his cock but none of those are odd. Rook expected that. 

So did Joseph going by the slight dip of his eyes once he's settled into the bath with a soft sound of contentment, Rook's hips nearly even with his head until he quickly kneels. Jacob pops in for a moment once they've managed to get Joseph's hair down and washed, the heat curling it slightly around his temples, setting a bowl of fruit on the sink alongside a bottle of orange juice and one filled with water. Rook thanks him quietly before waving him off, pushing alongside the order to go get scrubbed up and rest.

It's addictive, heady, having powerful Omegas like the Seeds bend to his orders to take care of themselves. If Rook isn't careful, it’s going to become a problem. And fast.

He feeds Joseph by hand, unwilling to have him extend any more energy than absolutely necessary, and sighs with an arched brow the third time Joseph's teeth catch the edge of his finger instead of fruit.

"Stop biting me. You are so tired you passed out. There will be no seducing or--or trying to make me extend a hand. You are going to eat and get clean and then we're gonna get you in bed."

"Stay with me." Joseph says softly, wet hand wrapping around Rook's wrist when he plucks another piece of melon from the bowl and makes to offer it up. "I know you have to leave tonight but--sleep with me. I find myself rather jealous that John got that right before I."

He eyes Rook's throat and murmurs a quiet "amongst others, it would seem" that has Rook flushing bright red. 

Rook doesn't have a response so he just...doesn't respond. Feeds Joseph in silence until the bowl is empty and he's managed to drink all of the water and a few sips of the orange juice. It's nothing close to a proper meal, but it'll do. Right now it's all about getting Joseph de-stressed and horizontal.

And ignoring his cock's suggstions on how to kill two birds with one stone.

"Scrub up. I'm going to go leave these at the bottom of the stairs." Rook says, wiggling the bowl and empty bottle. 

Joseph watches him silently as he steps out but must choose to comply, since he's lathering up his arms by the time Rook's back. The glide of the soap across his arms does strange things to Rook's higher brain functions and he stands, still and staring. Joseph doesn't mind the audience, even seems to primp a bit under it, spine arching and head purposefully tipped further back than it needs to be as he trails soapy fingers over his throat. Rook moves only when Joseph sets the soap down, cupping water in his palms to wash it from his skin as Rook opens the cabinet nearest the tub, hoping for--Ah, perfect.

"Alright." Rook says, pulling a towel out and letting the oversized length of it unfurl in his hands. "C'mon. Time to get you out and in bed."

"You seem rather insistent on getting me into my bed." Joseph says with a smile, the whoosh of the water draining a backdrop as he carefully stands. "If I had more energy, I might be quite interested in pursuing the why of it all."

"Yeah, well, luckily for me, you still look like you're about to keel over." Rook mutters. 

He's not wrong. Joseph doesn't look like he's in any danger of passing out again, color back to normal and eyes alert, but Rook still braces a hand on his lower back after he hands off the towel, hovering near. His movements are shaky, especially when he bends to dry his legs, and Rook's half tempted to carry him again once the towel is in place around his waist. But Joseph strides ahead of him and takes away the option, leading Rook from the bathroom across the hall.

He has to pause when Joseph's door swings open and he steps inside, re-align himself with what he's doing here. Rook is not supposed to be looking around like a tourist, eyes drinking in everything that Joseph has put in his private nest, and he's certainly not supposed to be drifting towards the high bed that's absolutely covered with blankets. He is here to get Joseph on his back so that he can rest because the fool had exhausted himself trying to prepare the proper sermon for the day. 

Nothing more. Certainly nothing like the suggestions his inner Alpha is throwing out. 

Though it gets harder to quiet those urges in the back of his mind when Joseph drops the towel and simply climbs onto the bed naked, hair a mess around his shoulders from the quick scrub of the towel before it was discarded. The curve of his back, the powerful muscles in his legs, the tempting arch of his ass as he purposefully moves more blankets around than need to be moved before crawling under one of the many there. Rook shakes his head once, twice, before planting his hands on his hips when Joseph's eyes--uncovered because his glasses are still on the bathroom sink--peek out at him from overtop the edge of the cover.

"You said you would rest with me."

"No," Rook blows out a breath, tries for levity. " _You_ said I would rest with you. I never agreed to that."

Joseph looks irritated, almost hurt. 

"If the idea of sleeping with me is so repulsive to you--"

"You know that's not it. Stop being bratty." Rook kicks off his shoes, the two of them thumping against the bed as his fingers work on the buttons of his shirt. "I'm going to lay down with you. But that's all we're going to do, I'll tell you that now before I get in and you try for something. You need to sleep, Joseph. And then we have to talk."

Joseph turns over on his side with a huff, practically radiating nerves. His scent is more cedar than mint now, strong enough that if Rook closed his eyes and let his imagination wander, he'd think they were out camping instead of in the bedroom of a house. Rook just leaves his clothes where they fall, content that he'll pick them up later, and crawls into the nest with nothing more than his briefs on. It takes a minute to find the edge of Joseph's blanket amongst all the others, to slip under and wind an arm around his thin waist, tug him back into his body.

He sets his chin on the top of Joseph's head and waits for the subtle spear of mint through all the cedar before he speaks.

"When you wake up, when you're not so tired you're passing out in church, you and I are gonna have a chat about extending the hand. And why it was so damn important I do it. Why Jacob and John refuse to do anything with me that I don't start. Why you dance around the edges and stay still as a statue until I offer you something. Relationships are about a give and a take and if I'm only taking, what the hell do you think that's gonna do to me? No matter how sweetly you all respond for me...I'm not those old school Alphas, Joseph. I want the Omegas to set the tone, the pace. Otherwise it just feels like I'm taking advantage."

Joseph's quiet for the longest time. So long Rook thinks he's fallen asleep save for the uneven rise and fall of his body. 

"Of course. Anything you wish. To hide it now would be...sinful."

Rook winces at the hollow tone in his voice. He scoots even closer, bends his knees until there's barely more than a scant inch between them chest to feet. He drops his chin, presses a firm kiss to the sensitive skin behind Joseph's ear. 

It earns him a shiver and the sudden relaxing of Joseph's tight shoulders.

"I promise I won't be mad. I don't think I could ever be mad at you. I just want to understand."

He doesn't know if he will, even if Joseph explains. But he might. And that might is worth taking the risk for.

"But first?" Rook shakes Joseph gently, leaves his mouth against the nape of his neck so he can feel his smile. "I dunno about you...but I'm kinda excited to take a nap with you in my arms."

"I'm more than excited." Joseph's voice is sleepy but there's emotion there, nothing like the terrible hollowness of moments ago. "I think this is something I could easily get addicted to, Rook."

He feels the same. But that's a conversation for later. Right now? It's time to take what he knows will be the best nap of his life.


	16. Rook's Consummation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy *finger guns*

Rook wakes up feeling like he fell asleep next to a furnace. It's _hot_ , the blankets are sticking to him, sweat pooling at his lower back and under his arms. It takes him a split second to think past "what the fuck” and “it's _so hot_ " to figure out the _why_ of it all. He'd gone to bed with Joseph, nestled amongst the many, many blankets the Omega apparently collected. Not really any reason to be sweating like he is.

Except he hadn't woken up with just Joseph. All of the Seeds are in bed with him now. 

Joseph is still cuddled up in front of him, breathing slow and even. But Rook lifts his head slightly, looks over, and John's lying between Joseph and the wall, flat on his belly with his head facing away. He's not wearing a shirt or pants and Rook learns, in real time, that John not wearing underwear at his house wasn't just a fluke.

Because he doesn't have any on right now either. 

Jacob's at his back and it makes sense, in a way. He's one of the few people Rook trusts completely at his six, probably why he didn't even budge when Jacob slid in behind him. His forehead is pressed to Rook's shoulder, arm curled so his elbow is pressed to Rook's ribs and his hand is cupped around his shoulder. 

He smells like all three of them. It mixes on his skin, sunk in deep by however long they've all been laying here together. Which has to have been a while because he's actually genuinely well rested. 

Of course, that could be more present company than the time spent unconscious.

Rook's just lifting his arm off Joseph, tipping it to check his watch, when Joseph makes a soft noise, a little like a kitten stretching from a sleep. He turns slowly as Rook lowers his arm back down, leaves it draped over his hip even as they come face to face. Just the few hours--four hours so more than a few but probably not nearly enough--have made a world of difference in Joseph. The circles are gone from under his eyes and they're bright despite having just woken up. He doesn't look near as pale or shaky, skin creased from the pillow but back to normal color underneath.

"Morning, gorgeous." Rook murmurs, taking a chance, toeing the line, rewarded when Joseph flushes and his eyes dip. 

"Morning. Thank you. That was, possibly, the best sleep I've ever had."

"It was certainly the hottest sleep I've ever had." Rook says wryly, Joseph wincing as he trails a finger over the sweat slick skin of Rook's chest. 

"Ah. Yes. Well, had I expected other bed guests, I would have adjusted the amount of blankets and the temperature properly."

"You weren't in any position to adjust anything, sweetheart. You _passed out_ in the middle of church."

"Yes," Joseph sighs, eyes staying on Rook's chest as he draws random patterns with the tip of one finger. "Something I'm sure I'll have to apologize to my flock for. I can only imagine their concern."

"They're fine." John's voice is sleep rough and slurred when it pipes up from the other side of Joseph's body. "I told them you were up all night being courted by your new Alpha. They all wish you the best of luck and want a proper introduction to the Father's future mate when you feel comfortable with it."

Joseph's eyes go wide, body turned halfway towards John before Rook can grab to keep him in place. He gets out the hissed first letter of John's name before Rook's speaking up, taking another chance, extending a hand and freezing the two brothers in place.

"They can meet me once I can find a good pair of clothes. I'm not being introduced as Joseph's Alpha in jeans and a flannel."

John's head pops up over Joseph's form, hair a mess, eyes brightening fast, shaking off the sleep like he was never out. 

"I will buy you some! Anything you like! We'll have to find a style that you like--perhaps a business casual? Or yacht yuppie, you'd look _fantastic_ in a block color sweater. Especially if we can find one that compliments your coloring."

“Stick a leather jacket on him and call it a day.” Jacob mutters from behind, arm shifting until it’s draped around Rook’s hips. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

“Alright,” Rook mumbles, sharing a grin with Joseph and John. “So Jacob isn’t a morning person. Duly noted.”

“Jacob is barely a person.”

“How ‘bout you come a little closer and repeat that, John?”

“How about, instead,” Rook’s getting better at seeing the arguments stirring, “someone let me out so I can shower this sweat off? And eat something.”

“I’ll make you something!” John shoots off the bed, a blur of naked skin that Rook tries to track with a craned neck and heated eyes.

“Judge is probably losing his mind with all of us down here.” Jacob’s moving then too and Rook lets himself fall onto his back.

Damn. Looks like Jacob sleeps in pants and a shirt. Or at least, he did this time. 

Jacob must catch on, grinning as he stretches beside the bed and calling over his shoulder as he ambles from the room. 

“No free peep shows, Deputy.”

“If I can find my wallet, I will pay!”

Jacob’s laughter rings as he strides away and Joseph’s chuckling softly at his side, dragging Rook’s attention back in an instant. He’s half buried in the pillow, eyes heavy with amusement--or comfort given the lax and lazy sprawl of his body.

“So,” he turns back onto his side, returning his arm to its rightful place over Joseph’s waist. “Sleep well? Despite the unexpected additions?”

“I slept amazing.”

“Good. Then you’re well rested enough for some questions.”

Joseph goes cagey in an instant. Eyes dropping to the sheets, shoulders tensing up, hands tucking in close to his body. Rook winces--alright, fair, he could’ve been gentler about that but dammit, he’s done being jerked around. He smooths his palm over Joseph’s hip, rubbing mindlessly, an unpracticed purr rumbling free.

“Hey, hey, I said I wasn’t mad. I just want to understand.”

“I...hear things. See things, on occasion. I don’t truly ever--they are not usually--they are more inklings. God given prophecies that I have to interpret to the best of my abilities. I have heard the Voice since I was a child under my father’s belt, and it is what commanded me to start the Project. To lead those who have strayed and save the souls that would otherwise be left by the wayside.”

“Okay.” Rook bobs his head, not trying to understand, just listening. “So how do I fit into that?”

Joseph seems to relax a bit at his response, and Rook wonders, with a touch of anger, how many others didn’t accept it as easily. How many people degraded him, hurled abuse at him. It’s not like he was commanded to start some murderous cult--he runs a goddamn commune for people in recovery from the horrors of life. Whether it was God or otherwise that commanded it of him, it’s a good thing, and no one should have ever scoffed at Joseph offering the sort of help he does.

“My brothers and I...have never quite fit. We’ve always known this. Even this home has never truly felt like home. And we wondered, for longer than any of us would ever like to admit, I’m sure, what was missing. God saw fit to tell me.”

His eyes are bright, like he’s got a fever, and he looks just as he did in the church. Righteous and determined, belief unwavering no matter what the response may be. Strength and beauty in his faith.

“It was _you_ , Rook. The piece missing from us all was you. An Alpha unlike others, one that is kind and gentle and fierce all the same. One that could curb Jacob’s temper and reign in John’s wilder tendencies. One who could provide a bend to my unwavering stances.”

“One Alpha for three Omegas.” Rook murmurs softly.

The thought had seemed so absurd at first. But now it feels...right. Makes sense. Explains why he could never settle on one. 

Rook doesn’t believe much in God’s plans. But if Joseph does, if they all do, and the plans benefit him...he could learn to believe. Learn to trust, if nothing else. It’ll take a bit because Rook feels a bit like he might slide off the face off the Earth right now, the ground of what he knew shaky under his feet, but Joseph is...a stabilizer. A balancing point. 

“Certainly not the expectation, I know.” Joseph seems incensed by Rook’s seeming acceptance, pushing himself to sitting. “But, if you think about it, it works so _well_. We lost each other for a time, separated so that we could come together stronger. And we are stronger with you. Everything about you, your normal childhood, your medical training, your softness, they all fit against our harsher edges.”

“I’d like to...think about this.” Rook says slowly, carefully. “This is a lot, Joseph. I’m not saying I reject it, not at all. But this isn’t--life isn’t some romance novel where there’s a big discussion and everybody just accepts it as gospel.”

Joseph nods over Rook’s internal cringe at his word choice.

“Of course. Anything you need. That you aren’t--that you’ve stayed and listened is more than enough. We...we accept whatever the extended hand will give.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing.” Now Rook’s sitting up, evening the playing field. “Why do I have to make the first move? Why is it always me extending the hand?”

Joseph looks at his lap, fingers twisting in the blanket there. It’s odd to see him so unsure, and Rook edges closer, purrs once more, trying to erase some of the tension. It doesn’t work totally, Joseph’s shoulders are still a tense line, but there’s a curve to his mouth that says he acknowledges and maybe even appreciates the gesture.

“I am unsure. But it is what I was told. I was commanded to take nothing but what was offered. Perhaps...perhaps God knew three could overwhelm you. Free will is the greatest gift He has ever given to us. All of us converging on you at once could have taken that from you, and it would be an irredeemable sort of sin to take the choice from someone.”

“But if I offer...then it’s on me. It’s my choice.”

“Precisely.” Joseph’s smile is true now, warm and soft. “And as I’m sure you’ve realized, we are ready to give _everything_ at the extension of a hand to receive it.”

“Everything, hm?” Rook hums, tracing careful fingers up Joseph’s thigh over the cover of the blanket. “And you couldn’t just...say something?”

“I was afraid to sway your mind in any particular direction. Afraid that disobeying my orders would lose me and my brothers everything.” 

“Well, no more being afraid, okay? And no more subterfuge. I, apparently, never grew out of my oblivious streak when it came to potential lovers.” Rook rolls his eyes at Joseph’s smirk. “Not that it wasn’t plainly clear with how long it took me to get here. If you want something, you gotta tell me. Promise.”

“I promise.” Joseph says, eyes flickering down and then up and then repeating the motion. “So...if I wanted another kiss…”

“Oh, I get the feeling I’ve opened one hell of a pair of floodgates.” Rook laughs before curving a hand around Joseph’s nape and hauling him in.

It’s nothing like it was on his back porch and too similar at the same time. The hunger is still there, exploding inside him as Joseph whines and scrambles to catch onto his shoulders. But it’s softened, like it’s eased by knowing its place. 

And Joseph is, by far, a more active participant this time around.

Rook’s on his back before he knows it and he doesn’t fight it, allows Joseph to climb on top of him, growling into his mouth at the grind of their cocks together as he situates himself. His hands fall, gripping slim hips, and Rook tugs him into the next shift, grinning at Joseph’s breathless whine.

“Gonna make a mess on my lap?” He asks between the needy thrusts of Joseph’s tongue. “Bet you’re already soaked.”

“Yes,” Joseph whines, “I am--I’m always--please. Please. I can’t, by myself--”

“S’okay. I got you. Never have to do it yourself again.”

It’s so easy to put Joseph under him. All Rook has to do is shift the right way, tip his hips, and Joseph’s tumbling off like he’d been ordered. Rook doesn’t come down on top of him, rearing back up onto his knees and smoothing a hand down his chest, his stomach, trailing light fingers over his cock.

He wants it in his mouth. Smooth and sleek and _gorgeous._

But he wants something else a bit more.

“You tried?” He asks, walking his fingers down the silk soft skin of Joseph’s inner thigh. “Didn’t work?”

Joseph looks a mess, eyes peeled wide, flushed so deep it’s crawling down his throat and over his ears. His hands reach back, curl in the blankets, fists shaking with how tight the grip must be. He shakes his head, lets his thighs fall open impossibly wider. 

“No, I didn’t--I couldn’t--It wasn’t you so it wasn’t enough.”

Rook shivers.

“Look at you with the compliments.”

Joseph’s as tight as he thought he’d be. Just the gentle press of questioning fingers has his body locking up, thighs twitching wildly like they want to snap shut. Protect himself. He’s holding his breath, eyes fluttering and slamming shut when Rook manages to ease one finger inside. 

His next exhale is more a sob than anything else and Rook leans down onto one forearm, presses gentle kisses over the hot curves of his cheekbones. 

“Shhh. I have you, Joseph. I have you. Let me in. I’ll make it good for you, you just have to trust me.”

“I don’t know _how_ \--”

“I’ll teach you.” Rook kisses him again, gentle this time, coaxing. “I’ll teach you, sweetheart. But you gotta let me.”

He’s two fingers deep now and it feels like Joseph’s tighter than ever. If he wasn’t gasping with every minute twitch, clawing up Rook’s arm, still holding onto the blankets, Rook would think he didn’t want it.

Fuck, how long has it _been_?

“Let me make you come.” Rook begs against the side of his face, sloppily pressing kisses there. “Let me give you that. Let me show you how good it can be.”

Joseph nods, frantic, eyes still too wide and pupils eating up the blue of his eyes. Rook shifts onto his knees once more, curving his free hand around the delicate curve of Joseph’s ankle. He picks his foot up, props it against his shoulder, embraces the lance of pain when his heel presses into the slowly healing knife wound. It pushes down his own lust, lets him ignore the way his cock is pulsing along in time with his heartbeat. 

Lets him focus on the way the shift of his body has Joseph dragging in gasps so deep that Rook thinks, for a split second, he might hyperventilate.

But he’s opening around the cautious thrusts of his fingers, steel tightness going soft, letting him ease in a third finger and watch the way Joseph’s eyes slam shut. Like he has to sacrifice a sense to keep sane.

It’s not a knot, it won’t do as well. But Joseph’s already shaking apart beneath him, and Rook’s glad he’s doing it this way. Because he gets to _watch_ as Joseph falls to pieces. 

It doesn’t start slow. He twists his wrist, spreads his fingers, gives just that little bit of a stretch, and Joseph _breaks_.

Sobs. Tears slipping from under closed lids. Mouth open and wet and lips swollen from Rook’s mouth. His body curls inwards for a second before it shakes all over. His heel presses against Rook’s shoulder, pain sharp and clear, keeping him in the moment. 

He comes across his stomach, cock untouched, and his hole clamps down so hard on Rook’s fingers he gets dizzy thinking about what it would feel like around his cock. His knot. 

Rook’s slow in the aftermath, in the drop back down to Earth. Moves only when Joseph’s body allows it, freezing at every hitched little whine. It takes forever to get his fingers free, and Rook adores every single second of it, eyes everywhere at once, taking in how Joseph looks when he’s come-dumb and relaxed.

He wants to lick the slick off his fingers. Find out how Joseph tastes. But he doesn’t--mostly because he’s pretty sure Joseph might fly off the planet if he does. 

Instead he balls his hand into a fist, plants it in the bed to lean over, pressing a kiss to his quivering lips. Joseph tries to reciprocate, tries to link arms around his neck, but he’s little more than a heap of muscle and bone at the moment, and Rook can’t help but chuckle.

“So--better than by yourself?”

“ _Perfect_.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Rook nuzzles into his throat for a second, leaving a soft kiss there.

Joseph’s eyes are already slipping closed, jolting open like he’s trying to force himself awake. Every part of Rook wants to stay here. Call off work. Spend the rest of the day and night getting to know Joseph’s body in and out until there’s no more secrets between them, no matter how trivial.

But Joseph needs to rest, the rational part of his brain reminds his ignorant inner Alpha. He collapsed from exhaustion. More sleep and food is what he needs, not orgasm upon orgasm until his body is even more worked to the bone. 

Plus, he’s got more than one Omega he needs to take care of.

That fact seems to quiet his Alpha and the idea of getting out of bed no longer makes him want to throw up. Rook offers Joseph a small smile, huffs out a laugh when he tries to return it and seems irritated his face isn’t obeying. 

“Rest. No one is going to blame you for taking a day to yourself. Go back to sleep.”

“You’ll come back?” Joseph slurs, little more than a whisper, like his throat’s raw despite not being able to make more than soft whines. 

“Of course.” 

Rook leaves him with one last kiss to the forehead, climbing from the bed and glancing at his clothes for a split second before deciding they’re better off where they are. Joseph’s breath has already evened out by the time he steps into the hall, and Rook can’t keep the smile off his face as he climbs the stairs. 

John’s at the top, a plate in his hands and what looks like an omelet on it. It’s still steaming--he didn’t leave all that long ago which means Joseph really was on a hair-trigger after so long--and Rook steps into his personal space to close the door to the downstairs behind him.

He knows. Rook knows he knows. It’s written in the slight flush to his face, the way his eyes glitter, the way his chest expands with a long inhale. They must make one hell of a pair, Rook still hard in his briefs and John completely naked with a plate in his hands.

John’s eyes keep flickering over his body and it takes Rook a moment before he realizes he’s looking at the marks he left. Probably trying to see if there’s any new ones. 

Rook raises a hand, fingers brushing John’s as he takes the plate, and sees John shudder at the sensation of lingering wetness on them. He sets the plate aside, all but throws it onto a side table.

“So--ah--not hungry, then?” John tries for a joke but doesn’t quite hit the mark, not with the heat in his eyes. 

“Oh, no, I’m starving.” Rook tells him with a grin, hands fitting themselves around John’s waist. “Just for something else. I did what you asked. Talked to Joseph.”

“Did a bit more than talked, I’m guessing.”

“Well,” Rook drags the word out, lets it tumble into a drawl as he pulls John in closer until he can press the line of his cock into the jut of one hip bone. “You could say that. But I get it now. I understand.”

“You do?” John asks cautiously, hands wrapping cautiously around Rook’s forearms as he hums and nods. 

“I do. So this is me; extending the hand. Seeing what I’ll get in return.”

“Anything.” John breathes. “Anything you want. Anything you ask for.”

“Dangerous offer.”

“Trusted Alpha.” John shoots back.

Rook grins and tips his chin up, offers it without even flinching or thinking twice. John’s eyes light with something wicked and pointed, like the flash of a knife edge.

“Was thinking some of the marks might have faded. And I’ve gotta go back into work today. Give me a fresh one?”

John does. Sinks his teeth so deeply it draws blood, pools hot and wet in the dip of his collarbone. It doesn’t go any further because John’s phone goes off, and John pulls back, teeth stained in a snarl. He’s on it for all of a minute, clipped sentences and a scowl firmly in place, before he sighs and looks over at where Rook’s still leaning back against the door.

“I have to--have to go. Custody disagreement.”

“Go take care of the kid.” Rook says easily, crossing the space to pull him into a kiss that’s not nearly long enough to satisfy. “Was thinking I’d return the favor tomorrow. Stay the night--well, the day, after I get off work.”

“Yes,” John sighs into his mouth, stealing another press of their lips before backing off. “Yes, that’s--please.”

Rook has to shoo him away, laughing at the way John nearly trips going up the stairs because he keeps glancing back. He snags the plate from its position, balanced so precariously he’s surprised it didn’t fall and break, and makes his way into the kitchen, eating as he goes. He’s just washing it clean when Judge tumbles through the back door, Jacob on his heels.

The curious nose is cold when it presses into his bare thigh and Rook laughs, setting the plate down into the sink to rub wet hands over Judge’s big head. 

“Watch the nose, buddy. Your daddy oughta teach you better manners.”

“Had better things to teach him.” Jacob grunts, crossing the space and waving Judge away despite the words. “John get you fed?”

“And more.” Rook admits with a low laugh as Jacob’s eyes track over his throat.

“So I see.”

“Little bit jealous again?”

Jacob folds his arms over his chest, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, ticking one side higher.

“Might be. Might not be. Either way, what’re you gonna do about it?”

Rook sucks at his teeth, puts on his best act of thinking deeply. He knows exactly what he wants to do, has known it since he first met Jacob Seed. It’s not really something Alphas do very often, not something a lot of Omegas are comfortable with, but he wants it, and he has the sneaky suspicion Jacob might want it too.

And, after all, he’s supposed to be extending the hand. Testing the limits. Seeing what he’ll get if he goes for it and he can’t do that if he doesn’t bother trying.

“Well, was thinkin’ I might suck you off. If, of course, that’s something you’d be into.”

Jacob’s arms fall to his sides in an instant, looking a bit like Rook had hauled off and smacked him. His mouth is hanging open, eyes snapping around like he’s looking for any sense that this might be a cruel joke, a tease with no intentions of following through. Rook ups the ante when his scent goes hot, like the sharp tang in the air after a gunshot, stepping in closer and crowding Jacob back up against the counter.

“Of course,” he says, nuzzling into the side of Jacob’s face, carefully keeping his hands on the counter instead of Jacob’s body. “If you’re not into it, I’m sure I can find something else to occupy my time. S’all up to you. You set the rules here, Jacob.”

“You’re supposed to extend the hand.” Jacob murmurs, hands sliding up Rook’s arms, skipping over wrist and forearm to encircle just above the elbow on each side. “Pretty sure you’re the one making the rules.”

Rook shakes his head.

“Not for this. Never for stuff like this. You want it and you’ll get it, Jacob, but I’m not going to push. Your limits and your comfort zone.”

“Was far more comfortable in the front seat of your damn car.” Jacob blows out a breath and his hands almost seem to shake when fingers bite into the meat of Rook’s arms. “Yeah. Yes. Please.”

Rook presses their mouths together for a moment, less a kiss of lust and more one of assurance. Praise, like Jacob ever needs that. He goes down easy, slipping to his knees and resting his hands on Jacob’s thighs when he glances up.

“You can do whatever you like. I’ll let you set the pace.”

“I’m not the one on my knees.” Jacob grits out, shuddering ever so slightly when Rook laves his tongue over the hard line behind his zipper. 

“Maybe not. But it doesn’t matter, does it? You’re still in control here.”

“Weird fuckin’ Alpha.”

But Jacob complies. Slips calloused fingers into his hair and grips, just the right side of too tight, so he’s got a guiding hand in all of it. Rook’s hands are shockingly steady as he peels open the layers of jeans and briefs, pulling the lot of it down to stretch tight between Jacob’s powerful thighs.

He’d kill to get them on either side of his head one day. The right amount of pressure and suffocation that blocked out the rest of the world until it was just him and whatever Jacob offered up.

Jacob’s on the bigger side for an Omega and Rook isn’t surprised at all, a grin curving his mouth as he wraps a hand around the base. He likes to take his time, savor it, but Jacob’s fingers are flexing against his head and his hips are pulling tight, arching, and Rook knows that’s better left for another time.

“Stop looking so smug.”

“More pleased than smug.” Rook counters lightly, before stealing whatever response Jacob would’ve had by letting the head rub against his flattened tongue.

Jacob doesn’t make a lot of noise, which is fine--when Rook doesn’t have a mouthful he’ll be making enough noise for the both of them. It’s mostly little sighs when Rook tests his gag reflex on the plush head, huffs of breath when Rook does something particularly clever with his tongue. His hands do a lot of the talking for him, pulling Rook in close when he hovers for too long, pressing kisses to the length, pushing away when his thighs start to tremble. 

“Where do you want it?” Rook pulls off to ask when Jacob’s fingers become claws, hand pumping him, slicked with the leftover drool. “In my throat? On my face?”

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” Jacob breathes, hips moving in aborted little thrusts. “Anywhere. Anything. Don’t care.”

Rook hums once he’s got Jacob’s cock in his mouth once more and grins around it when Jacob _yanks_ on him. Pulls him in tight. He lets it happen, drops the hand he’d wrapped around what he couldn’t swallow down. It frees up his hands nicely so he can push his own briefs down, one hand pumping his length and the other squeezing around the forming knot while Jacob uses his mouth.

Everything in him wants to stand up. Spin Jacob around. Bend him over the counter and give his knot something hotter and slicker than a dry fist to lock into. But Jacob’s too far gone now, reckless and rhythmless, Rook barely getting in a desperate gasp of air before he’s being choked again. 

He lets go of himself when Jacob comes. Puts his own needs last to grip onto those powerful and shaking thighs, give Jacob a brace as he grinds Rook’s nose into his stomach and comes down his throat. It tastes almost sweet, a startling comparison to his scent, and Rook tries to hold what he can in his mouth, across his tongue. Put the taste to memory so he won’t ever forget.

He swallows when Jacob goes to pull out, knows he’ll slop it down his chin if he doesn’t. It’s okay. Rook knows he’ll get more one day if the astounded way Jacob’s gaping at him is any indication. He stumbles back a step, lower back hitting the counter as his eyes search and drop to where Rook’s cock is a hard testament to how much he enjoyed that too.

“You didn’t--I should--”

“Watch me.” Rook urges, moving his hands back down to their assigned places, swiping a thumb over the leaking head. “Just--watch me. I want you to see what you do to me.”

His voice is rough and it makes Jacob shiver--or maybe that’s the words themselves. Rook doesn’t look away as he works himself, tension crawling along his spine until his hips are jumping into the movements of his hand. Jacob’s scent is all around him, in his nose and on his skin and down his throat and it makes it all worse and better at the same time.

Rook wants more. Wants more than an orgasm on the kitchen floor. Wants to know what it feels like when he knots one of the Seeds, watches them fall apart on it. 

But he’s patient. Extending a hand is all well and good until that hand gets greedy.

Jacob’s eyes feel like a brand, especially when they flare as he comes. It gets everywhere, over his knuckles and on the floor in front of him, and Rook grits his teeth, groans out Jacob’s name as his knot swells, so thick he can barely close his fingers around it. 

Jacob goes to his knees, drags Rook into a kiss, folds a hand over his and squeezes so tight it takes every bit of air from his chest.

“I want this.” He says softly, the smallest edge of a whine in his tone. “I want it. You didn’t have to--”

“I’ll give it to you. I promise. In a bed. Not in my fucking car or in the kitchen. In a proper bed like you deserve.”

Jacob curses against his mouth, hand flexing, and then Rook can’t say a damn thing because his cock’s pulsing _again_. More come, over Jacob this time, a stripe across his wrist that makes Rook want to forget all his promises and mount him right here on the floor. He sags, exhausted under the excess arousal, and Jacob’s right there.

One arm wrapped around his shoulder, holding him in close as Rook shivers through the aftermath.

“So perfect for us.” Jacob breathes, ruffles the short hair near Rook’s ear when he braces his forehead on one strong shoulder. “So good.”

“M’certainly trying.” 

He’s so lost in Jacob’s scent, the warm solid form of him, the way he’s clenching and unclenching his hand around the knot like he’s trying for a _third_ that he totally misses that they’re not alone anymore. Misses the addition of a new scent, hot and citrus sharp.

“This isn’t _fair_.”

“Go to work, John.” Jacob rumbles in a laugh.

One solid footfall, like John stomped on the ground, and Rook twists his head, laughter bubbling up. John’s standing just a few feet away, eyes bouncing everywhere like he wants to commit the scene to memory. He’s hard under his slacks, ruining the probably perfect fit, and he looks like he’s seconds away from quitting his job entirely. 

“I want to stay here. I want to have my chance with Rook.”

“You already put your marks all over him. He’s gonna go into work tonight with the whole damn town knowing some Omega got fierce and bitey.” Jacob points out as Rook starts looking around for something to clean up his mess. “You got your chance, I’d say.”

“It’s not the _same_.”

“I’ll call you tonight.” Rook offers when Jacob takes pity and pushes to his feet, turning on the sink with one elbow grabbing a rag to wet under the fall. “Midnights are boring. I’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

“You had better.” John snaps, crossing the short distance to sink _his_ hands into Rook’s hair.

He presses deep the second their lips meet, clearly not caring about whatever Rook might have lingering on his tongue, and the thought makes Rook shiver so hard it nearly breaks the kiss. A groan slips free, quiet and wanting, his cock twitching like it’s prepared to prove it’s up for the challenge. He’s saved from doing anything stupid by John’s phone going off _again_ , shrill and insistent, John dragging himself away with a scowl.

“For fucks sake! I’m going to scramble the satellites. No one can interrupt me if no one has any service.”

“That’d make it hard for Rook to get ahold of you tonight.” Jacob points out, handing over the rag so Rook can start the process of trying to wipe himself off.

He’s gonna need a shower. Two loads is a lot and there’s no way he’s getting rid of the sticky feeling without some soap and scrub action. Not to mention the fact that he’s now got fresh sweat overtop the dried sweat from earlier and that’s just--yeah. Definite shower in his near future. 

“Promise me you’ll call.” John hands are gentle when they slip down, cup his cheeks. “I’m feeling a bit...left out.”

“Promise.” Rook turns his head, presses a kiss to the center of one palm. “And if you’re here in the morning when I get off, you can help me shower. How’s that sound?”

John’s eyes flutter, jaw going slack, mouth curving into a smile.

“That sounds _fantastic_.”

He rocks back on his heels, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

“I’m so glad you finally realized everything. I have to go but--thank God. This is...everything I wanted. Needed.”

“Joseph said it’d all work out.” Jacob says from over by the sink, lounging back, a grin toying about his mouth too. “Should’ve trusted he’d make it work somehow.”

“Well, for once, I’m happy about King being as influential as he is.” John laughs.

And everything freezes. Jacob stops laughing, John goes pale, and Rook slowly climbs to his feet. He takes a minute, re-arranges himself so his briefs are back in place. There’s something close to anger burning in his chest, or possibly betrayal. 

King had said those exact fucking words, hadn’t he? ‘Extend the hand’. And Rook hadn’t even noticed it. Hadn’t thought a single thing of it.

“What did you just say.” He asks quietly, voice as level as he can get it.

John throws his hands up, backing up a step, shoulders curved and scent shoved so hard it nearly sends Rook staggering back.

“I said--I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought you knew, I thought that’s why the--the everything!”

“What was I supposed to know, John?”

“Joseph talked to King. Asked him to help you see.” Jacob cuts in, stepping forwards, ever ready to protect. “We thought he just outright told you what was going on. Thought the change in you was because someone far removed pointed it out.”

“The change was because I was so desperate for one of you, any of you, that I took the chance even if it meant it would all crash and burn.” Rook snaps. “Joseph called my fucking _brother_?!”

He’s not mad. Not really. He’s more...hurt. Hurt that it took that much, that the Seeds were so desperate for something, anything, that they’d sneak around and get help from an outside source. Hurt that King, who was always honest to the point of grating, hadn’t just told him about it. Had used the same bullshit double-speak and hidden meanings that Rook expects from others.

Not from him. Not from them.

John looks a bit like he might start crying and Judge is growling softly from behind him, probably responding to the thick scent of his anger. Rook sags, sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Go to work, John. I’ll call you later. I’m going to go shower and then, apparently, I have another phone call to make first.”

“I’m so sorry.” John breathes, no trace of a whine, probably not wanting to risk it--and that makes everything worse, somehow.

“I’m not mad. I’m...I don’t know what I am. But I’m not mad at you. This isn’t some deal-breaker. I just need to...I need to figure some stuff out.”

“That’s fine.” Jacob says levelly, not inching forwards, still a few feet away. “That’s alright. We can wait.”

“You all have waited enough.” Rook can’t help but dig, unease and discomfort still hot in his blood. “Too long, apparently.”

They both flinch and Rook steps back, holds his own hands up.

“No, I’m sorry, that was fucked up. I’m not mad at you two. I’m pissed at King, yeah, but that’s not on you. I’m going to go shower. And I _will_ call you tonight and I _will_ be back in the morning. I just...need some time.”

“Well,” Jacob’s smile is small but cautiously happy, like he’s glad Rook’s got the kind of hold on his temper he always said he did. “It’s a good thing we’re pretty practiced at patience then, huh?”


	17. A Fifth Interlude

“Rook knows.”

Joseph pauses, his sandwich halfway to his mouth, at Jacob’s needlessly foreboding words. He turns, spots his brother lingering at the divider between kitchen and living room. He arches a brow, teeth sinking in, chewing patiently before he answers.

“Yes? I told him of what the Voice said. He didn’t...didn’t seem rejectful of the idea. He needed time to think but that’s perfectly understandable.”

Jacob shakes his head, a short, tense movement.

“No. He knows you called King. John let it slip.”

Joseph stops in place. Stops eating, stops breathing, stops thinking save for the alarm bells ringing so loud the world beyond them is muffled. He must lose color, he thinks distantly, because Jacob rushes towards him with his hands up. 

He steps into them, sandwich on the floor at their feet, and closes his eyes with a soft sound of despair.

“I should never have interfered. I should have _trusted_.” Joseph leans back, grips Jacob’s forearms, looks for any signs of despair in his brother’s eyes. “Was he angry? When I saw him before he left, he didn’t seem--he was still kind and--”

A bit distant, Joseph realizes with a sinking heart. Rook had been soft and gentle, as he always was, as was his nature, but he hadn’t allowed Joseph to pull him back into bed. Hadn’t allowed him to deepen any kisses past the gentle brushes of their lips. Joseph had thought, at the time, it was because he didn’t want to be late for work, dutiful officer that he was. Had thought it was Rook reminding him with actions and not words that he wanted to consider it, wanted to take it all in past the initial burst of seeing what extending his hand could gain him. 

He was a fool.

“I need to--” There’s a thousand plans racing through his head, skipping like the old CD’s would. “I need to call Rook, need to apologize, I need to--”

“I think,” Jacob interjects calmly, sternly, “that you need to call King. Rook was more mad at him than at us. He deserves a warning if Rook hasn’t already gotten ahold of him. Rook told John he’d call him tonight, let them talk. He’s still coming home tomorrow morning. You can talk to him then.”

Joseph nods, shaky, unsettled but certain in Jacob’s assurance. Jacob always has a plan when his fail. It’s rare but Jacob is always there, always ready, always has the right idea. 

If anyone can save them, salvage this, it’s Jacob.

“And you?”

“I’m going to...go talk to an Omega I know. He’s better at this shit than we are, guaranteed. He’ll know what to do--how to properly apologize.”

He tips their foreheads together and Joseph is reminded, sharply, that Jacob is older. He’s been in control for so long, planned their lives once they were together, that he sometimes forgets. Forgets his brother is, in fact, older and probably wiser. The rock that all of them lean on, a strong shoulder and a analytical mind that calms even the worst of the storms.

“I love you, Jacob.” Joseph breathes. “I’ll fix this. I promise I will.”

“And I will make sure you don’t have to do it alone.” Jacob squeezes him, once, a brief hug that does more to settle Joseph’s mood than anything else. “I’ll head out. You call King.”

Joseph watches him go, feeling a bit despondent when Judge trots away at his heels. He knows Jacob prefers to take him with if at possible but it leaves him feeling a bit...abandoned. That, mixed with the guilt in his stomach, is a cocktail that has him sitting down heavily on the couch as he fishes his phone free from his pocket.

He almost wishes King doesn’t answer. But that would be sloth in it’s finest form, wasting prayer and hopes on an avoidance.

“Hello?”

“Kingsley. It’s Joseph--we’ve spoken before?”

“Oh, yeah, one of the Omegas Rook’s chasing after. How’s that going?”

“It _was_ going well.” Joseph sighs, falls limp back against the cushions. “But I fear that all may end.”

“Did Rook do something?” 

“I did something. He...found out about my call to you and was displeased.”

“Oh, I just bet.” King snorts, voice still light. “He can get over himself. You guys were stressing to the point of fucking up your heats if it continued. He’s lucky I didn’t just drag him over and drop him hog-tied at your front door.”

Joseph shivers delicately, the image distracting him for a moment until he can refocus.

“Ah, yes, well--regardless. I imagine he’ll be in contact shortly and not with well wishes in mind. I thought to warn you.”

King _laughs_. Deep and full and so much like Rook’s own that it makes Joseph’s heart ache for a moment. He’d heard that laugh earlier, has heard it so many times, and if he doesn’t fix things...he may never hear it again.

“No offense, Father Seed.” King is still laughing the words out. “But I grew up with the little shit. I know how to handle his temper tantrums. He can call and bitch me out all he wants, better me than you guys.”

A pause, like King’s considering, and then--

“He _didn’t_ bitch you guys out, right? I’ll come down and wring the fucker’s neck myself if he did.”

The concern makes Joseph smiles, even as he hurries to correct the assumption. Rook always spoke of King being an inspiration, the reason he views the world as he does when it comes to Omegas. A little brother trailing in the elder’s footsteps, both of them likely in line with a father so different from Joseph’s own he feels a desperate need to call the Wylde patriarch and thank him for his positive influence.

“No, no, of course not. It would seem a majority of the anger was directed towards you. On our side it seemed more...hurt. Which is, I suppose, largely my own fault.”

“You were doing what you thought you had to.” King says mildly. “No shame in that. Long as he kept his manners, then I won’t have to go rounds with him.”

“I appreciate your willingness to do so.”

“Look, I’ll be real with you for a second, Seed.” King’s voice drops, like he’s imparting some secret, and Joseph presses the phone so hard against his ear it aches. “Rook’s got a good heart but he’s dumber than a box of fucking hammers on occasion. Mom’s called me about a hundred times over the years because it seems like he never clicks in with an Omega for anything other than a heat or rut. You guys...are like some sort of godsend for him.”

A private little smile crosses Joseph’s face at the word choice. He hadn’t precisely told King what the orders on high were, explaining that they were old-fashioned, trapped in their childhood teachings and unable to make the first move. It seems almost too fitting that King thinks they’re Heaven sent.

In a way, they truly are.

“So I’m gonna do whatever I can to ensure that whatever is going on down there? Keeps going on. It’s good for him, I can hear it in his voice. You guys are good for him.” 

He snorts.

“Mom’s gonna lose her shit having three son-in-laws to fawn over, though. Fair warning. You think Alphas can get pushy? You haven’t seen Ma on a warpath.”

Joseph tries to hide the pleased note in his voice. Tries to hide how desperately he wants. Wants a mother that is more than a ghost that still lives and breathes. Wants to impress the woman who wrangled both King and Rook and turned them into the respectful men they are.

“Perhaps, if we are very lucky and the distance is any help, she will be distracted by the time of meeting us with having another in-law to focus on.”

“Oh, I see what’s happening here. Somebody got his happy ending and now he wants to play matchmaker.” Joseph can _see_ the wriggle of King’s finger, so like Rook. “You can take those thoughts and trash can them right stat now, Seed. I don’t have anybody and it’s not like God’s gonna drop my one and only in my lap.”

“God’s plans are not often visible until we are embroiled in them.”

King groans. “Fuck I forgot you were a preacher. Look, I’m flattered. And I know you’re probably already combing through that flock of yours thinking about who’d be good for little old me. But I need...particular things.”

“What sort of particular things?”

“Excitement, I guess? Someone to keep me on my toes.”

“You’re a _pilot_ ,” Joseph laughs, easy in the company of someone he’s already starting to feel the smallest inkling of family towards. “I would think that would serve as plenty of excitement.”

“Maybe, yeah. But after that, it’s a shit ton of hurry up and wait. I want...I dunno. Want someone to start a fire in me even when I’m grounded.”

“God gives what we need precisely when we need it.” Joseph says softly. “There is someone out there who will burn for you, Kingsley. Of this? I am certain.”

“Well, _I’m_ certain that I’d better get off here before you start throwing up godly Tinder profiles at me.” King huffs, amused and thankfully not offended. “Besides, better prep for baby brother’s rage call. You got it all handled on your end?”

“Rook saw the light. We can do anything now that we are together, including get past the inevitable struggles every relationship goes through.”

“Good.” King sounds satisfied, the barest hint of a purr that’s more platonic, like what the Alphas in the compound do when amongst their brothers and sisters. “I’m glad. Call me if you need any help slapping him into shape again.”

“I will not.” They share a chagrined sort of laugh. “But I thank you for the offer. Have a blessed day, Kingsley.”

“You too, Father Seed. Oh--hey, before you go?”

Joseph pauses, raises the phone back up to his ear.

“Yes?”

“Could you do me...like a small favor?”

“Anything.”

“Alright, well, it’s not that serious.” King does get serious though, traces of amusement gone. “I wanna surprise Rook. I’ve kinda hinted to him that I’ve got leave coming up and might drop by for a visit. What I didn’t say was that it’s next month. Think you could get me some flight prices and stuff? I don’t know where dick is in Hope County to fly there myself.”

Oh, this is just _perfection_.

“I believe I can do you one better, Mr. Wylde.”

“Is that a fact?”

Joseph hums, a smile spreading across his mouth.

“It is. My younger brother John has a vested interest in flying as well. As such, he was particular in what he wanted when he purchased land here for our home. Plenty of rooms, a large hangar...and a private airstrip.”

“No shit?” Joseph can _hear_ the grin in King’s voice. “Think he’d mind me gate-crashing it? If you can get me the coordinates, I can touch down in--”

There’s the rustling of paperwork in the background and Joseph thinks, in the small silence, of how pleased John will be, despite his complaints about Rook’s brother before. To help set something like this up, to be instrumental in re-uniting the brothers just as he was in helping the two of them find Jacob--

God has a tendency towards requiems. Even further proof that this is the plan, the set path.

“About 3 weeks? First week of August, it looks like.”

After John and Jacob’s heats have come and gone. And their bond is unshakeable and it’s time to “Meet the Family” so to speak. 

Wonderful.

“Perfect. I’ll speak with John later and have him email you the details?”

“You’re a peach.” King says, “thank you. I’ll text you my email. And--good luck. Rook’s a hard-head but he’s got a soft heart. If you can get to that, you’re golden.”

Joseph thanks him, assures him he’ll try his best, and ends the call with a persistent smile. It felt too much like talking to his own brothers, talking to King was like a dinner conversation. Easy and careless, laughter and warmth even over the phone. Meeting him will be just as wonderful, Joseph imagines.

He thinks for a moment about the timeline, heat coiling in his stomach despite his best efforts to bury his lust. 

As will what comes two weeks before he touches down. The heats. The final lock sliding closed, bringing Rook into their life completely.

Patience is a virtue and Joseph will be virtuous. Until he no longer has to be.

.O.

“Thanks for meeting with me.”

Eli is the sort of Omega Jacob often thinks he might be if he hadn’t gone into service. Still a fighter, still strong, but mellowed. Unhaunted. He’s got one hell of an analytical mind, perfect for controlling the Whitetail Militia that keeps the forest protected, and he’s steady. Stable.

He’s also eyeing Jacob with a too keen gaze as the waitress sets their dinners in front of them and walks off.

“What happened?”

“Can’t I just ask a friend to dinner?”

“A friend, sure.” Eli snorts, waving his fork at him. “But not me. If you wanna go to dinner, you’ve got hundreds in your church that you could ask. You asked me, in particular, which means you need someone who won’t bullshit you.”

Jacob wishes he was wrong. Wishes Eli wasn’t quite so perceptive, wishes he could lie to him.

But...fuck.

“Alright. Fine.” He’s irritated and Eli seems inordinately fucking pleased with himself. “I fucked up. Well--John fucked up and so did Joseph. And I didn’t help any of it.”

“Seems like if they fucked up they oughta be the ones to fix it.” Eli points out. “You ain’t kids anymore, Jacob. Can’t just go behind them and clean up their messes.”

Jacob chews angrily on his mouthful. Eli, for his part, doesn’t seem bothered by the occasional flashes of teeth, calmly spearing a piece of steak and chewing like he’s prepared to wait forever for the response.

“It’s about our Alpha. So I’ve got a vested fucking interest in cleaning this one up.”

Eli goes serious in a second. Sets his knife and fork down. Leans in slightly, voice lowered and eyes darting around for any possible eavesdroppers.

“Awful possessive language there. You made Rook yours?”

“Not yet, not fully.” Jacob admits with a grimace. “Supposed to happen during my heat. Well, mine and John’s.”

“You’ve got one coming up together?” Eli whistles softly at his nod. “That’s a lot for one Alpha to deal with. Rook’s probably capable, but--”

“He’s plenty capable. He’ll do just fine. But only if he’s willing and right now he’s upset with the lot of us.”

It feels absurd to be defending his Alpha. But Eli’s got his hackles up with his concern--Rook’s plenty fucking capable of anything he puts his mind to. Jacob wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t. Not to mention his heat’s barely a week off at this point and he’s short and snappy with everyone.

Another reason he asked Eli. Eli’s not afraid to tell him to go fuck himself.

“So--what do you want me to do?”

“I need,” Jacob inhales, can’t believe he’s really fucking doing this, “advice. On how to...appeal to an Alpha. Use my Omega--wiles or some shit like that--and get him to forgive everyone.”

Eli stares at him for a long second. Two. Three. And then proceeds to burst into laughter while Jacob mutters threats under his breath and tries to stab him with his fucking salad fork. 

“I’ll get up and leave this fucking place.” He snaps when Eli continues and people start to glance over with small smiles like they want to join in the hilarity.

Eli waves him off, coughs a bit as he tries to reign in the laughter, and Jacob’s tempted to move his glass further away when he reaches for it. He waits, somewhat impatiently, stabbing into his food and shoveling it into his mouth so that he doesn’t start yelling. He can feel Judge shifting under the table, leaning heavy into his leg, probably picking up on how out of control his emotions are right now.

When Eli finally calms down he grins, wide amongst the dark hair of his beard.

“I’m so sorry. It’s just--the idea of you being that demure Omega our parents probably told us we should be is--”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m a shit Omega. Just give me some fucking advice.”

Eli sobers, smile turning to a frown in an instant.

“Hey, now, I didn’t mean--”

“I get it.” Jacob blows out a frustrated breath. “I’m not the picture of anyone’s perfect mate. I’m aggressive and I’m mouthy and I’m more comfortable leading than I ever am following. Made me a good fucking soldier but it’s shit for mate potential. Do you think if I had the slightest clue how to do any of this I’d be asking?”

“Jacob,” Eli stabs a finger in his direction when his mouth opens. “No. Shut up. Let me talk. You’re not broken or wrong. You’re different and so fuckin’ what? Plenty of people ‘round these parts are different. Hell, _Rook’s_ different. And I guarantee if he heard you talkin’ like that he’d chew you out for thinking you were anything less than everything he wanted.”

Jacob flushes, curses his pale complexion when Eli’s eyes spot it and he grins in triumph. He’d been leery, at first, of telling Eli about his attraction to Rook. Saw any Omega, any one of them younger or less scarred up or more easy-going, as competition. But he’d spilled it all over Eli’s bunker one night when he was drunk off his ass, avoiding John’s gushing praise about how Rook’d looked working at the house that day. He’d lied to Joseph about it at first, eventually come clean and atoned and Joseph’s soft gaze had been too much like Eli’s when he’d murmured a soft “Oh, Jacob.”

Eli had said much the same thing, cooed at him when he’d laid splayed out on his back and told the ceiling all he fucking wanted was an Alpha like Rook to look at him as something more than wrong and weird.

Not the smartest decision he’d ever made but a good one, in the end.

“I know. He’s so--fuck, he’s perfect. But I’m still--” Jacob points a finger at his head, twirls it in a circle. “Fucked up in here, y’know? Not like that shit vanishes overnight.”

“And Rook won’t expect it to.” Eli nods, like he’s satisfied Jacob’s seeing the light finally. “So; you wanted advice? Be yourself. Not the hardass front you have to play to so people don’t fuck with you. Be honest and be true and just...be you. If you’ve got Rook, he’s not falling for the facade. He sees what’s behind the mask and clearly he likes it.”

“Be myself?” Jacob snorts. “That’s terrible fucking advice.”

“It’s what I got.” Eli shrugs. “It’s not like I’m walking around with an Alpha on my arm either. But I know if I find one, if I get one interested, it’ll be because I’m being myself. Never pretended to be anything I wasn’t and you shouldn’t either.”

Jacob grunts his agreement, tipping his glass bottoms up to avoid Eli’s piercing gaze. 

“I’ll...try it. Might be shit at that too but then at least it’s off the list.”

“If all else fails,” Eli suggests with a wave of his hand, “you could always show up in that jacket of yours and nothing else. Hard to be mad at someone when you wanna fuck’em, y’know?”

Jacob feels perfectly justified in choking on his tea and making sure Eli gets caught in the spray after _that_.


	18. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *knock knock* Guess who, y'all? It's me, your favorite beta... of Momo's work. Anyway, someone let me sleep this morning so I didn't get the new chapter read through one last time before she got busy so she asked me to post it while she's out. I, of course, jumped at the chance. I've missed you guys. I worked a crazy work schedule the last few days too so I haven't even been trolling to comments. But Momo tells me you guys are still loving it so that's good to hear. Anyhoo, on with the show.  
> ~[Ri](http://rithebeta.tumblr.com/)  
> Ps, you are all welcome to come yell at/with me about this on Tumblr ;)

“You scumsucking sonofabitch.”

“Evenin’ to you too, baby brother. I’m telling mom you’re calling her names.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Rook resists the urge to punch something, knowing he’ll only hit wheel or dashboard and both of those are breakable. “You talked to _Joseph_?! You fucking _knew_?!”

“Oh, this is about that.” King blows out a long suffering breath, like _he’s_ the one that’s got any right to be irritated. “Yeah, your boyfriend called me. So what? You were being a dumbass and stressing them out. They needed help.”

“Yeah, fucking help. Extend a hand. I should’ve known you wouldn’t say anything that smart without someone coaching you.”

“Oh, hey, go fuck yourself.” King’s not mad, it almost sounds like he’s on the verge of _laughing_. “Rook, what was I supposed to do? I got an Omega on my line, sounding like he’s seconds from a breakdown because your oblivious ass couldn’t find tits in a strip club. I had to help him out.”

“You could’ve just _told_ me. The backwards ass doubletalk isn’t like you.”

“I promised Joseph I wouldn’t.” King explains patiently. “Something about...not forcing your hand or some bullshit? Because they’re old-fashioned and believe the Alpha should make the first move or something? So I wanted to but I couldn’t.”

Rook sags back in the seat, stares blankly at the empty highway in front of him. He’d been sent on speed trap duty, snatching up the assignment because it meant hours in the car without others within earshot. He’d honestly thought it’d be useful because he’d been prepared to scream King’s ear off the second he picked up the phone.

Now...now it just hurts. Steals the breath from his chest. Joseph had been so insistent on not going against whatever wishes God had handed down that he’d even lied to King while he was seeking his help. Rook gets the feeling only the Seeds and he know about the command, the voice--or whatever Joseph liked to call it. 

He’s still not sure he believes in it, but it doesn’t matter. The Seeds clearly do. 

“He was upset when he called you?” He says finally, quietly.

King’s voice softens too, like he knows how much self-loathing Rook’s bathing in right now. He’s a good big brother, even if he is an incorrigible pain in the ass most of the time.

“He was so stressed out I honestly thought you were gonna throw him into an early heat. Throw all of them into one, by the sounds of it. I knew you’d stab yourself in the chest if that ever happened because of you. So, yeah, be pissed all you want, but I did what I thought was best for my brother and future brothers-in-law.”

“God, I don’t--fuck.” Rook lets his head fall forwards, smacking into the steering wheel and feeling grateful for the sharp lance of grounding pain. “I don’t know how I didn’t _see_. How I let it get this far without seeing all the signs.”

“Because you’re an oblivious shit?” King laughs when Rook growls at him. “Look, I won’t pretend to know what goes on in that head of yours. But, point is, it’s all settled now. You got your boys and they got you, right?”

“Maybe. Maybe. I snapped when I heard they’d talked to you. I felt...sick. Sick and guilty that they’d suffered for so long they reached out to someone they didn’t even know.”

King hums. “Right. And no part of that was you being pissed they reached out to another _Alpha_?”

Rook stops, considers, scowls.

“I fucking hate you.”

 

“Yeah,” King drawls, “there’s that possessive mate. Part of you might be pissed at me and Joseph for going behind your back, but another part hates that they went to another Alpha. Asked another _Alpha_ what to do. Leaned on them instead of you for a split second.”

“Stop. Fucking. Talking.” Rook grits out.

King laughs down the line and Rook takes a moment, tries to control his breathing. His vision is edged in red just thinking about any of the Seeds going to another Alpha for anything like that. He’s fine with the Alphas at the commune, fine with randoms on the street. But this was important, this was their relationship, and them reaching out to another Alpha about it makes him want to bite something.

It’s not fair, he reminds himself sharply. He's gone to other Omegas about this. Good for the gander and all that shit.

Too bad his inner Alpha doesn’t give a shit about fair.

“You want my advice? Make sure you talk shit out. Put it all on the table. Tell’em why you were upset--hell, from what you’ve said? They might just jump you right then and there if you tell them you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t just jealous though. I was, and still kinda am, genuinely upset at the lengths they went to instead of just telling me.”

“Well, sounds a lot like they couldn’t.” Rook can picture the careless shrug of King’s shoulders. “From what you’ve said about them, sounds like they were brought up pretty fucking strict. Hard to break that kinda stuff.”

Not to mention the religious aspect. 

“Yeah, no, you’re right.” Rook squeezes his eyes shut, tries to center himself. “You’re fucking right, as usual. Don’t smile at me like that.”

“You can’t see my face.” King points out.

“I can _imagine_ it.”

“Go imagine other, more entertaining shit than my face. Like the three Omegas you got.” A pause and then-- “You do have them, right? I figured because you found out about the call but I swear to God, I will fly my ass down there--”

“I’ve got them. Kinda. It’s still...fresh. New.”

“Then you’ve _definitely_ got better things to be thinking about.” King says. “Stop wasting my valuable sleeping time bitching about how I, in all reality, helped you.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“An asshole who’s trying to have a regular sleep schedule. Night, baby brother. And you’re fucking welcome.”

“Fuck you.” Rook complains, groaning out a irritated “love you too” at King’s purred affections.

He stares at the phone once the call’s done, staring at the picture on the background. It makes him laugh, absurdly enough. He’d snapped it a while back, before the intervention at the 8 bit, when the Seeds were still just fascinating maybe-friends. He’s above Judge, chin propped on that big head as Judge’s mouth gapes open, tongue lolling in a grin. He’d taken it when he’d ran into Jacob and Judge outside Rae-Rae’s and he hadn’t thought twice about putting it where he’d see it every time he looked at his phone.

Judge meant Jacob. Jacob meant John and Joseph. Connections in his mind and his blood before he even had the slightest clue maybe he wouldn’t get shot down if he asked. If he ‘extended the hand’. 

Like the Alpha in his soul was guiding him even back then.

He considers for a long moment--he’s been on shift for about 2 hours now, the clock just ticking into 10 as he sits and waits, and it’s a Sunday night. Nobody’s gonna come down this stretch of highway anytime soon and they’re probably not going to be speeding if they do since the apple orchard is just around the bend and it’s a huge fuck-off “slow down” sign all on it’s own.

John should still be awake. Especially because they all took a nap this morning.

“Rook?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Rook relaxes just at the sound of John’s voice, even as something in his chest aches at the hesitancy there. “You free?”

“Always. I’m just--just in bed.”

“Comfy?” 

“Does my bed look like it would be uncomfortable in any way?” John asks wryly and it makes Rook laugh, shaking his head.

John’s good at deflecting, they all are. But there’s a note of something hopeful in his tone.

“So,” he drags one finger against the rim of the wheel. “I talked to King.”

“Oh?”

Cautious. Careful. John should never be that way around him but it’s Rook’s own damn fault and he’s going to fix it. 

“Yeah. Guess I should be the one apologizing, in all reality. Not just for how I acted back at the house but to you guys, in general. Didn’t know I was stressing you all out by being--well, by being the oblivious ass everyone said I was.”

“It was...difficult.” John admits softly. “I wanted so badly and Joseph said I couldn’t take what wasn’t offered but waiting was...torture. But you’re here now. You’re ours now.”

A pause. One sharp inhale.

“At least, I certainly hope you are.”

“Yeah,” Rook murmurs, a purr drawing the word out, rumbling through the interior. “I am. I’m yours, you got me. No more chasing. I’m good and got.”

John whines at him, soft and yearning and Rook’s half tempted to invite him out. Tell him that right now it’s just him and the quiet of the car and empty highway. Ask him if he wants to get dressed and come see what sort of trouble they can get into.

But the image of John in bed is sharp in his mind. Probably naked, blankets wrapped around his form, lax and lazy and loose. The perfect soft place for him to land at the end of a difficult day. The idea of tearing John from that, even to put him into his arms, doesn’t settle quite right with him.

“Hey, John?”

“Yeah?”

Rook grins, sees the flash of it in his rearview. “What’re you wearing?”

A pause. A huff of incredulous laughter. A hum.

“What do you _want_ me to be wearing?”

“How about my scent and not a whole lot else?”

John’s laugh is bright and sharp and Rook knows, just knows, if he was closer it’d come with the sharp citrus of his arousal.

“That could be arranged--fairly easily, actually. You’ll have to wait until the morning but I feel waiting is only fair, really, at this point.”

Rook groans, shifts in the seat. He’s already starting to get hard from the tone of John’s voice, low and secretive with just a hint of a whine on some syllables. Despite his cock getting a workout this morning--fucking twice because Jacob does wonderful, terrible things to his mind and body--he’s ready to go at John’s call. At his request.

“What do you want me to do? When I get home this morning?”

“Everything. Anything.” There’s a curious shift in the background. “Whatever you want. I just want you, I’ve wanted you for too long now.”

“Any chance you’re willing to offer up some details about the everything and anything?” Rook asks, slowly palming his cock.

He can’t actually jack off right now, un-fucking-fortunately. He doesn’t want to drop by the station and get a clean uniform and risk dealing with the stares and arched brows. But if he can get John off…

Just as good, really. Just as satisfying in his mind.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus fucking--” Rook bites off the blasphemy before it’s done but John just laughs in his ear.

“Is it so surprising? I’ve fantasized about it, for a while now. I went through a heat before, thinking about you. Fucked myself until I was raw wishing I had your cock, your knot, to see me through it.”

There’s a shift in the background again and Rook’s not an idiot, despite the many--many, many, too many--accusations as of late. He growls, the vibration of it shaking his badge against his chest.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not here. I’m making due with what I have. And what I _have_ are particularly long but disappointingly slim fingers.” John groans. “Yours are so much thicker. You’d stretch me open, almost make it hurt.”

“You want me to make it hurt?”

The idea of actually harming John makes him sick. But if John wants an edge, wants the bite of pain alongside the pleasure, wants to limp the next day, Rook can make that happen. Can make every single bit of it happen. Can make him scream and writhe and collapse, so exhausted and sore he’ll need a recovery period.

“I want--I want to _feel_ it. I want to lose myself in you. Everything about you.”

“Could certainly be arranged.” Rook parrots his words back at him in a bite. “God, you have no idea how fucking bad I wanna put my teeth into you, John. Give you a few marks along with those tattoos of yours. I want you in the pew, in the fucking chapel, with my marks on you. I want every single person who sees you to know you belong to someone who’s coming for blood if they fuck with you.”

“ _Alpha_.”

John sounds like he’s hurt. Like there’s an ache inside him, a raw wound that he can’t patch up on his own. Rook can hear different sounds in the background now, not the swish of skin against bedding but the slick sounds of someone working themselves out. The mental image alone has his hips jerking up, like there’s a goddamn thing around except his palm for him to thrust into.

“You sound so fucking good.” Rook tells him, panting, phone trapped between ear and shoulder as he stacks his palms over his cock and gives himself a firm pressure to roll against. “Sounds like fucking Heaven. I can’t wait to hear what you sound like when I get my cock inside you. Bet you’re tight--fucking _know_ you are. I can’t wait to work you open on it, stretch you out until nobody else is ever gonna be enough for you.”

“Nobody. Never again. Rook, _please_.” John babbles. “Need you. Need something.”

“Next time I come home--cause that’s what it is now, right? Home. Our home. You made us a home, John. Next time I come home, I’m gonna get in your bed. Leave my scent all over it. So the next time I’m gone and you’re fucking yourself on your fingers and wishing it was me, all you’re gonna be able to smell is me. All you’re gonna be able to think about is me.”

John comes with a gasp in his ear and Rook grits his teeth, has to take his hands away entirely so he doesn’t follow suit. He’s so hard he’s throbbing, the pulse of his heart right between his legs, and it fucking hurts. But it’s worth it. So worth it. Giving voice to his possessive side has never been as easy as it is with John.

He wants to own him entirely and the scariest fucking part is he knows John would let him.

John’s still panting in his ear, breathless and a little whiny, like he’s trying for proper and doesn’t have the air in his lungs to do it. Rook sags into the seat, tries to steady his own breathing, tries to think of anything other than how good John must look right now. 

“Mmm, that was...amazing.” John manages finally, more a hum than a whine.

“Good.” Rook grins. “More where that came from. You sound really fucking hot, you know that?”

“So do you. Heard you in your rut. Could barely stay away. God,” John laughs, a bit manic, “do you know how desperate I was by the time I got home? I almost leaked through my pants.”

Rook swears, closes his eyes tight like that’ll help the way his cock is all but steel under the tented fabric of his pants.

“If I have to go get a new uniform, I’m gonna put you across my knee.”

“You say that like it’s a threat.” John purrs and Rook growls in response before he can think better of it.

“Go to bed, John. Because I’m gonna hit that front door tomorrow morning like a fucking animal and trust me, you’re gonna wanna be well rested for it.”

“I look forward to it.” John murmurs. “Goodnight, Rook.”

“G’night, John.”

Rook stares down at his lap once the calls ended, scowls at his cock like that’s going to do fuck all for his current situation. He’s half considering just jacking off and being very, _very_ careful about it when the radio beeps from the dashboard. He takes a deep breath, tries to school his voice into something a little less “I just listened to one of my Omegas come and I’m not pleased I couldn’t be there to help.”

“Deputy Wylde here. Come in.”

“Rook?” It’s the Sheriff for once, Nancy having the night off. “You still out on speedtrap duty?”

“Yessir. Nobody’s come by, though. This stretch is dead, was thinking of moving positions.”

“Well, move positions over to the Moonflower Trailer park. Got reports of smoke and loud music.” The Sheriff’s snorts just as Rook laughs. “Go see what Boshaw’s burning now.”

“Copy that, Sheriff. Wylde over and out.” 

He doesn’t put on the sirens, even though he totally could just to scare the shit outta Sharky. The drive is a nice distraction, his mind too busy looking for deer and other animals that like to sit in the middle of the road to linger on how good John sounded. By the time he gets to the dirt road that leads back, he can already see the smoke and hear the tinny reverb of whatever music Sharky’s blasting loud enough to wake the dead.

Rook turns on the lights just as he cruises through the front gates, just because if he doesn’t he’s liable to startle himself right into a molotov onto his hood because Sharky saw a dark shape in the night and was too drunk to figure out what it was. He parks next to Sharky’s trailer and climbs out, rounding the car to pop the trunk and drag the extinguisher from it.

Just in case. 

It’s easy to follow the orange light of the flames and Rook glances around the trailers surrounding the pit--which is filled with...whatever the fuck Sharky could find, apparently. He sees Sharky up by the microphone stand and sighs, crosses to climb the ladder, the extinguisher clanking loud against aluminum when he reaches the top and tosses it up before him. 

The music is so loud at this point he can barely hear himself think and Rook starts shouting before he even reaches the homemade bridge that links the trailer he’s on with the one Sharky is currently dancing atop.

“Charlemagne Victor Boshaw! Hope County Sheriff’s Department! Turn off the music and put the flamethrower _down_.”

“Suck my dick, popo!” Sharky fires back with a grin, even as he flips the switch that kills the entire system.

Rook’s ears ring in the sudden silence and he groans, rubbing the flat of his palm against one. How Sharky has any hearing left is so far beyond him at this point.

“Sharky, what the fuck.” He says with a gesture towards the still burning pit. “I was having a relaxing night. Why do you hate me?”

“I had trash to burn, man. Not illegal to burn refuse, I done looked it up.”

“Burning refuse is permitted. Starting a fucking wildfire is not. What if that shit spreads?”

“I got water and stuff!” Sharky points down and Rook takes a look over the edge.

At the aforementioned water barrels. Which are lidless and look like they’re filled with rainwater and cigarette butts and God only knows what else. Which are also positioned in a way that, if the fire did spread, Sharky would get himself burnt trying to get to them to put it out.

“Sharky.” Rook detaches the hose, points the nozzle at Sharky. “I will put out the fire at it’s source, so help me God.”

“Hey, hey!” Sharky backs off instantly--good choice too, Rook’s actually sprayed him down before.

Of course, at the time, Sharky had been _literally_ on fire. But that didn’t mean Rook didn’t like some small part of it.

Sharky deposits his firepack, which looks homemade and definitely not state licensed, on the roof and approaches with palms raised. 

“Look, I was bored. Who called and tattled to 5-0?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I was having a peaceful night and now I’m on a trailer near a fire threat.” Rook arches a brow. “And I’m not talking about you for once.”

Sharky grins, wild and unrepentant.

“Well, hey, that means you can’t leave until you’re sure it’s out, right? Let’s have a few beers, man, I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.”

“I’m on the clock.” Rook points out, but he follows Sharky down the ladder regardless. “You can drink. I will watch you drink.”

“Cause that’s not creepy or anything.”

“I still have the fire extinguisher in my hands, Sharky.” Rook points out.

They wind up sitting atop an abandoned bus, watching the fire slowly burn itself out. And Rook does mean slowly. They’ve been up here for almost an hour already, Sharky’s three beers down and it’s just starting to curl it on itself. 

Just like Sharky’s starting to curl into his side like a puppy with a full belly.

“Where ya been, man?” He asks eventually, cheek pressed to Rook’s shoulder.

“Ah...dealing with some shit.”

“Oooh, cryptic.” Sharky snorts. “What’s their name? Who’s got you ditching your friends for some good fuck?”

Rook rolls his eyes.

“John, Jacob, and Joseph Seed. Ring any bells?”

“Dude, no way!” Sharky sits upright, so fast and sloppy Rook shoves an arm out to catch him from toppling off the bus. “You serious? Didja finally pull your head outta your ass?”

“You know, eventually, I will find someone in this town who will be nice to me.” Rook complains to the sky. 

“Aww, I bet those Seeds are bein’ awful nice to you.” Sharky says, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “So--what are they like in bed? Kim says John looks like he’s a needy fuck all the time forever.”

“We are not discussing this. I haven’t actually slept with any of them yet. And if I had? I’m still not talking about it with _you_.”

“Fucking rude.”

“Sharky,” Rook rubs his cheek against Sharky’s head, softening the words slightly. “There are only two people worse at keeping secrets than you and it’s Addie and Hurk. If I tell you anything, I half expect it to wind up on the front page of the Chronicle by tomorrow.”

“Naw,” Sharky waves a hand in front of him. “Virgil said we can’t send in gossip no more. Said something like it’s bad for county morale or some shit. I think he’s just worried someone’s gonna send in somethin’ about him.”

“Still. Not sayin’ shit.”

“You are giving me blue balls, dude.” Sharky complains with a half hearted whack to Rook’s thigh. “You’re running around with three Omegas and probably getting ready to fuck’em through the bed and I ain’t gotten laid in _forever_.”

“You said you got laid when we were at the Spread Eagle! That was--what? Little over two weeks ago?”

Sharky goes uncharacteristically quiet at his side. So quiet Rook sits upright, tips his head around, tries to see past the ever present ball cap. He’s fidgety, fingers twisting around some loose string off the bottom of his hoodie, and his shoulders are curled inwards. Collapsed.

“Yeah, they--uh--didn’t want a repeat, I guess. I asked and they just...I dunno...ghosted me or some shit. Never heard anything back from them.” Sharky laughs and it’s hollow and there’s nothing even remotely amused there. “Guess they couldn’t handle the disco inferno, huh?”

“They were a fucking idiot.” Rook hauls him in with an arm around his shoulders, letting Sharky curl into his shoulder. “You’re one hell of an Omega, Sharky. They don’t know what they’re missing. You’re better off without that piece of shit.”

Rook’s so tempted to ask who it was. Go banging on their door, flash his badge, scare the shit out of them. Sharky’s normally jovial, cheerful, sarcastic but _happy_. Now Rook can smell the barest hint of salt and pain over the burn of the fire and Sharky’s breath is hitching in tiny, barely contained sobs.

He knows it’s mostly the alcohol. He doesn’t know how many Sharky had before he got here but he’s polished off at least 5 now while they’ve sat here. Rook should’ve questioned why he was throwing them back like it was the end of the world.

“I just want...shit, I just want someone who’ll stay. Stay the morning after and make me breakfast or, hell, even let me make them something. Fucking around’s all good and fun until you realize it’s all people want you for.”

Rook doesn’t know what to say. He’s been there, been down and desperate for someone to want him outside a rut or their heat. Thought the whole damn world was conspiring to leave him alone and mate-less. Until recently, he’d nearly come to terms with it all.

Until...recently…

“God...has a plan, y’know? And if they weren’t supposed to be part of the plan, makes sense they didn’t stick around. But there’s a plan and a path and you just gotta be patient sometimes.” Rook presses an absent kiss to the top of Sharky’s head. “Promise it’s worth the wait.”

“Dude...you’ve been spending way too much time with the fucking Seeds, you know that?”

But Sharky seems to brighten a bit. Is back to laughing for real and teasing him about using other people’s words. No more drinking either, Rook notes with a satisfied sort of grin. They toss the cans into the now nearly dead fire, and Rook brushes himself off with a sense of finality. It’s an easy task to put out what’s left of the embers, killing the blaze once and for all, and easier still to coax Sharky inside and dump him onto his mattress.

“Hey, Rook?” 

Rook pauses, one hand on the doorframe of Sharky’s bedroom, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“M’really happy for you, man.” Sharky slurs but it’s heartfelt and Rook smiles.

“Thanks. I think...I think I am too. Finally.”

Sharky’s already snoring by the time he finishes speaking and Rook laughs softly to himself, makes sure he locks up behind him as he leaves. He does a cursory check of the fire, making sure it’s out, and trudges back to his car feeling a bit light. 

He really is happy. It took a while to figure everything out but...Joseph was right. In the end. He feels like this, here and now with the Seeds, is right. Where he’s supposed to be and what he’s supposed to be doing with his life. There’s a lightness to his step and he can’t keep it from his voice when he radios in on his way back out onto the main road.

“Deputy Wylde checking in. Sharky was just burning a little too much trash at once. Got the fire put out and sent him to bed.”

“Good job, son.” The Sheriff mutters, sounding a bit distracted. “And good timing. Got another call for you to answer.”

“Is it a full moon or something?”

“Might very well be.” Earl snorts. “Cause this one’s from up in the Whitetails. Jacob Seed called it in.”

Rook’s heart skips, stops, drops into his stomach. His hands feel a bit numb on the radio and he suddenly has to concentrate _very_ hard on keeping the car on the road.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“Calm down, Rook.” Earl’s voice softens, like he understands that Rook’s suddenly on edge. “Seed just said he thought someone was hunting up there. Went to go check it out with Eli Palmer. Was just giving us a heads up if any of us were in the area.”

“I can be in the area.” Rook responds instantly before he cringes. “I mean--uh--unless you had something else for me to do, or someone else closer or--”

“Go check on your Omega, Rook.” Earl laughs. “Let me know what’s going on. And don’t forget to report back at two for a check in.”

Two in the morning. Mid-shift checks. Rook glances at the clock as he ends the call and presses down harder on the gas. He’s got about three hours. 

He can do a lot in three hours.

What he can do right _now_ is grab his phone out of his pocket and tap the screen so fast he almost calls Joseph by mistake.

“Hello?”

“Jacob? I’m on my way, where are you?”

“Rook, relax.” Jacob laughs--fucking _laughs_. “I’m up on the Whitetails. Neither me or Eli have heard anything else. You don’t need to come up here.”

“I am literally on my way. Nothing short of you meeting me halfway is going to stop me from getting to where you’re at.”

“Aren’t you sweet.” Jacob hums. “Alright, shit...halfway is...Moccasin River? The part near the F.A.N.G center?”

“I’ll be there.” Rook swears, hearing the engine roar as he flies down the road at speeds he would’ve arrested anyone else for doing. “Don’t do anything. Just go there. Tell Eli to come too.”

“Ah...actually...Eli went back to the Wolf’s Den.”

“What?! He left you up there?!”

Rook doesn’t know Eli very well but that sounds...out of character. He’s usually a pretty dependable sort of man. He frowns, adrenaline sparking in his veins at the thought of Jacob out in the woods alone. He’s strong, capable, but if something were to happen…

“No, he said--said he was gonna get some Whitetails. Patrol. S’why I was heading back down the mountain. Figure if there’s no reason for me to stay…”

“Where’s Judge? You’ve got him with you, right?”

“Ah...well...Thought Eli might need his nose so I--”

“ _Please_ meet me?” Rook interrupts. “I just--wanna see you. Wanna see that you’re safe. You sound weird right now, Jacob.”

He swears he hears Jacob curse, low and irritated, but there’s no sign of it in his voice when he answers.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you. Should get there in about fifteen.”

Ten minutes before Rook. Ten minutes of being alone with a potential poacher who doesn’t give a shit about hunting in a nationally protected park and probably won’t give a shit about going after a lone Omega. 

He’s going to kill the engine of his damn car if he goes any faster.

“Stay in your car. Just wait for me.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

Alright, well, now he’s really gonna fucking hurry. Jacob’s never said that to him before. Something is wrong, something is very...abnormal.

Rook finds himself glancing at the sky, just to check that it isn’t _actually_ a full moon. The crescent smiles back at him from amongst the stars and it only makes him white-knuckle the wheel. What the _fuck_ is going on?

“I thought I told you to stay in the car.”

Rook is going to wring Jacob’s neck. Because not only is he _not_ in his car, he’s about fifty feet from it. Sitting at the edge of river bank, back to Rook, a gorgeous figure in the calm and _open_ space.

Rook swings his gaze around, the hairs on his nape upright, something snarling in the back of his brain. He doesn’t see anything amiss but he feels it. Feels it like there’s electricity in the air, like he’s out in the middle of a storm. He drops a hand to his sidearm, takes a cautious step towards Jacob.

“Jacob. Something’s up. Come over here to me.”

“It’s fine.” Jacob says, still not turning around. “Hey--grab me my lantern? Should be in the back seat?”

Rook blows out a frustrated breath but complies. At least it’ll be a little more light now that the headlights on both of their cars have gone out and they’re running on the distant shine of the F.A.N.G. center’s lights. He opens the door, peers into the interior, and frowns when he can’t see anything lantern--like inside. He leans around the door, eyes still skipping around like it’ll magically appear if he just looks for a few more seconds.

“Did you put it in the bed? I’m not seeing--why are you taking your pants off?”

Jacob pauses, one leg inside his jeans, head raising slowly.

“Technically,” he says slowly, “I’m putting them back on.”

Rook stares at him, head slowly tipping. Jacob’s naked under the jacket, dog tags glinting against his bare chest, and even though he’s half bent to pull his jeans up the one leg he’s got inside them, Rook can see that before--before whatever the fuck this is--he didn’t have a stitch on except the jacket.

“Jacob.” He lets the door close, the soft thump muffled under the sudden roar in his ears. “Was there someone hunting up in the Whitetails?”

“People hunt out of season all the time. That’s why Eli and his people exist.”

“Tonight.” Rook persists, slowly making his way towards where Jacob is still paused in the act of getting dressed. “Was there someone up there tonight? Or were you just hoping I’d answer the call?”

Jacob abandons trying to pull his jeans on and it’s not even funny how he straightens, crosses his arms over his chest, with only his jacket and one pant leg on. Because he looks _upset_. Nervous.

“I knew this was a fucking stupid idea.”

“No, no, maybe not.” Rook hasn’t stopped easing forwards, hands up and palms showing like he’s approaching a wild animal. “But you have to explain--what was the thought process here? Because I’m lost. Interested! But very, very confused.”

Jacob shifts, uneasy, and the hairs at the back of Rook’s neck stand up again but he gets it now. He wasn’t on edge because there was a threat here. He was responding to Jacob’s anxiety, his stress. All those warning bells were his inner Alpha realizing his Omega was stressed out before he even consciously tuned in to it.

“I thought maybe--Eli had suggested--I know it was a joke but I fucking thought--” Jacob waves a hand through the air like he’s trying to erase his words. “Doesn’t matter. Nevermind. This was a stupid plan from start to finish. Get back in your car and let me pretend this shit never happened.”

“I’m not really sure I can do that.” Rook close enough now that he could reach out and touch if he wanted to, if he thought Jacob wouldn’t shake apart under it. “Because what I’m seeing is an Omega-- _my_ Omega--stressed out and upset. And, more importantly, half naked. So getting back into my car is about as likely as me throwing myself into the river at this point.”

“And what’s so fucking appealing about it?” Jacob snaps. “I’m not a fucking idiot and John owns about six hundred mirrors. I know what I look like. Old and scarred and way too far past prime to be doing half the shit you want.”

“What I want,” Rook says softly, sliding his palms carefully over Jacob’s hips, “is exactly what you are. You’re older, yeah, but I can’t even fucking imagine how much experience you’ve got. You could probably teach me a couple things. And your scars are from your life. Everyone’s got scars, Jacob. Just means you’ve lived a hell of a life.”

He steps in close, plants his foot atop Jacob’s jeans to stop any attempts at getting them on, and hides a grin when he feels his thigh brush up against a part of Jacob that’s certainly not complaining about the proximity.

“As far as past prime? Feels to me like you’re doing just fine.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” Jacob grouses, but his hands lift, slide over Rook’s shoulders. “Who handed you a poetry book?”

“It’s not poetry so much as me realizing my Omega thought he had to do all this try and seduce me.” Rook brushes a kiss over Jacob’s cheek, lets his voice fall to barely more than a whisper. “Honey, you don’t have to go to all the trouble. Don’t you know I'm already yours?”

Jacob huffs and Rook arches a brow, sliding a hand around to flatten it over his lower back. His skin’s cool in the night air and a part of him wants to cover Jacob just so he won’t catch a chill, even at the expense of losing sight of all the exposed skin he’s finally getting a look at. 

But body heat works just as well. And Rook’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

“If you stop being difficult for six seconds, you could probably reach down and find out just how bad I want you.”

Jacob doesn’t break eye contact and neither does Rook. Holds his gaze even when a cautious palm slides down his stomach and over his cock. He doesn’t stop his body from arching into the pressure though, a purr rumbling free as Jacob’s eyes flare and his fingers curl.

“Trust me,” Rook says, “given the first opportunity? I’d take you down on the dirt here and fuck you. You deserve better and I know that, I get that, but you say the word and I will. Because I don’t ever want you thinking I don’t want you. Don’t want you to think I don’t think about getting inside you every single chance I could.”

“You’re supposed to extend the hand.” Jacob murmurs, but he’s not letting go. 

“And I did. Told you what I’d do. Now it’s up to you.”

“Never pictured you as someone ready to roll around in the dirt for a quick fuck.”

“Not normally. But if you want it, I’d do fucking everything. Anything.” Rook blows out an amused breath. “You’ve got no idea how gone I am on you half the time, Jacob. For fucks sake, I sucked you off in the _kitchen_.”

“I did like that.” Jacob admits lightly, but there’s still shadows lingering in his eyes. “You don’t--guess right now would be good for it. Low light and all that shit.”

“Keep talking like that and I won’t. I’ll go back to my car and wait until we’re in the brightest room I can find to prove to you I want it. All of it. The scars and the past and the man who makes me feel like I’m a fucking teenager, popping my knot in my jeans if you so much as glance at me sideways.”

Jacob laughs and it chases the last of the doubts away. Rook can’t help but grin back, huddling ever closer, using his palm on Jacob’s back to press them together until Jacob’s hand gets trapped between their bodies. 

“C’mon. I got an idea.”

“Let me just--” Jacob drops a hand like he’s going to pull up his jeans and--

“Nope. Absolutely not. That won’t do.”

Rook’s not totally sure he can lift Jacob. His Omega’s solid weight, built strong and built well. But his body accepts it easily when he bends, pushes his shoulder against Jacob’s stomach and folds his body over his shoulder. Jacob makes a noise that sounds almost like a yelp, hands tugging and gripping at Rook’s belt, his jeans dangling from one foot once it’s off the ground.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?”

“River’s rise. And I only want you wet for one reason, not two.” Rook says simply, turning and trudging back towards Jacob’s truck. 

It’s a bit of a juggling act to get the tailgate down with Jacob wriggling over his shoulder but Rook manages it. He’s careful when he lowers Jacob onto it, ensuring he’s supporting his weight until Jacob’s ass is resting on cool metal. Rook doesn’t waste a second, keeping his body between Jacob’s spread thighs, fingers digging into the meat of them greedily.

“Where’s your stupid fucking lantern?”

“You can’t be serious.” Jacob shakes his head, laughs. “Look, I get it. You want me. You’ll fuck me in the noonday sun. We don’t need--”

“Jacob.” Rook singsongs, nosing up under the strong line of his jaw. “The lantern?”

Jacob mutters something irritated, blasphemous, but his body arches as he reaches behind him. There’s a distant click and then light floods where they’re standing, lighting up everything when Rook leans back and Jacob sets it on the high edge of the truck bed. He whistles, makes a show of dragging his eyes over Jacob’s body, and probably deserves the disgruntled shove of Jacob’s palm against his shoulder.

“Look at my Omega. Fuck, you’re so hot, you know that? What do you want? Tell me and it’s yours.”

Jacob shifts, looking uneasy for a second, but it fades as he nods sharply, like he’s making a decision in his head.

“On your back. Under me.”

“ _Fuck_ yes.” Rook moves, scrambles up into the truck and all but throws himself on his bed in the interior. “Come on. Get on top of me.”

Rook’s probably going to miss the half-shift check-in at this point. Doesn’t matter. What matters, right here and now, is Jacob settling his weight over him with a grin. What matters is how the lantern is bright enough he can see all of Jacob, the white of his scars and the irritated red of fresh injuries.

Everything else can wait.


	19. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: discuss your feelings you fucking fucks.

True to his words, Rook hits the front porch the next morning full of energy. Doesn’t matter that he just worked 12 hours straight--well, worked is a very loose term. He spent a good portion of it worshipping Jacob until he wasn’t actually sure the man was going to be able to drive away and make it home safe. But he’s still ready to go, the slight downtime between Jacob on top of him, beside him, under him in the truck bed and the rest of his shift crawling by in a mind-numbing blur has left him jonesing for some excitement before the inevitable crash.

It’s unlocked, thank god, and Rook swings his gaze around the second he steps inside. Joseph’s at the counter, clearly cleaning up after an early breakfast, and he’s dressed in loose white robes. His scent clings to them when Rook stalks close, held in by the folds of fabric, and his smile is benign, cautious.

“Welcome home. How was work?”

“Fun.” He cages Joseph up against the sink, hips pressing into his ass. “Where are you off to?”

“Ah, the church.” Joseph’s hands come back to grab at his hip, his thigh. “We have baptisms scheduled for--Rook, what are you _doing_?”

“Apologizing for being such an oblivious pain in the ass.” Rook murmurs into the nape of his neck, exposed by the ever present bun. “Apologizing for you ever having to go to someone else for help. Apologizing for not just jumping you the first chance I got.”

“Rook,” Joseph whines, hands flying to brace himself on the sink when Rook rolls his hips forwards. “I have to leave--I can’t--”

“I know, I know.” Rook wraps his arms around Joseph, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his stomach. “I won’t keep you, Father. But come home afterwards, yeah? Got some things to discuss.”

Stepping back is nearly killer. His cock pulses behind his zipper, like it’s angry with him for moving away from the Omega who went pliant and loose under his hands the second Rook grabbed hold. But he fights it back, pushes it down, rolls his shoulders under the tension that pulls them tight.

Joseph turns, shaky and disoriented, adjusting his glasses with careful fingers. He sweeps his eyes up and down, a smile tugging at his mouth when they linger at Rook’s hips. He’s half tempted to strike a pose, convince Joseph to be a little late, but he won’t.

He was never the type to expect his Omega to stay home and just wait for him. Joseph has a life outside of Rook and his knot and he won’t interfere with it.

“You are a temptation.” Joseph tells him softly, stepping forward for a kiss that’s not nearly deep or long enough. “But one I am glad to have to resist. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll be back before dinner.”

He steps away, tugs his clothes back to rights after Rook’s greedy hands pulled the sash over his shoulders out of place. There’s a glint in his eyes, his smile.

“John should be upstairs. If you were looking for someone else to offer--ah--apologies to.”

Rook shoots him with wink, grin firmly in place, and climbs the stairs slowly. You can’t run with an erection, Rook learned that pretty early in his life. He looks around once he’s on the outdoor balcony slash hallway, leaning over the edge for a split second to offer a cheerful wave to Joseph as he climbs into a car alongside a few other members of the church. 

Joseph waves back, calmly, and Rook can practically _feel_ the eyes of the flock bouncing between them. Between him and John’s room. He resists the urge to show off, a little “yeah, I got them, I’ll be good to them, promise” and simply ducks backwards, hand on the knob as he calls out.

“John? I’m home. I’m coming in.”

Well, he will if he’s very lucky.

There’s no response and Rook realizes why when he steps inside. The chime of running water is audible and there’s steam seeping out from under the closed bathroom door. Rook steps close, presses his ear to the door, grins when he hears the soft sound of John singing something over the spray. 

It’s unlocked, because someone up above must be looking out for him, and Rook slips in as quietly as he can, closing it behind him. And throwing the lock. He undresses silently and quickly, taking care only to set his gun aside atop a cabinet once he’s checked to make sure the safety's still on. John’s going about his shower, humming now, thankfully oblivious to his presence.

Rook’s already hard. Still hard from being around Joseph and from the promises he made to John last night.

Sliding open the shower door is easy. Pushing his scent ahead of him so he doesn’t startle John is easier. And opening his arms when John turns with a wide grin, shampoo bubbled up in his hair, is the easiest of all.

“Welcome home, Alpha.” He purrs, pressing in close, getting Rook soaked instantly. “How was work?”

“Fucking frustrating.” Rook reminds him with a dry tone. 

John laughs, shakes his head, steps back to put his head under the spray. It puts his body into an arch, neck completely exposed, and Rook grinds his teeth together with the need to bite.

“Not how I heard it. Jacob stumbled in _very_ late last night. Incredibly disheveled but floating along like he was walking on air.” John rights his head, locks eyes with him, and drops his voice to little more than a hushed whisper. “Tell me, Rook. If I go down on you right now, am I gonna be able to taste Jacob on your cock?”

Rook shudders, stops breathing for half a second, and all but lunges for John. Pins him up against the wall, the spray hot on his back, wetting his hair and making everything slippery. 

“You’ve got filthier mouth than me, you know that?”

“Mmm, and what are you going to do about it?” John asks, hand shoving between them to wrap around Rook’s cock. “Gonna--what was it you said? Put me over your knee?”

“Don’t fucking tempt me.”

The wall’s a hell of a brace, Rook leaning down and hooking his forearms behind John’s legs, hauling him up. He winds up with a handful of John’s ass, kneading and squeezing, hips pinning him in place as John wraps long arms around his shoulders.

“Well, isn’t this a sudden change from the man who couldn’t tell I was flirting with him?” John shakes his head, rolls his eyes, affectionate as Rook huffs against his pulse. “You plan on doing something now that you have me at your mercy?”

“Like you’re ever fucking at my mercy.” Rook growls, John unwinding one arm to cup his face, drag him back to level.

“Oh, but I will be. In about a week, give or take, I’m going into _heat_. I’m going to be begging for you, slick and wanting, waiting for you to breed me.” John squirms against him as Rook tries to remember how to breathe. “You’ll service me through it, right, Alpha? Give me everything and anything I want?”

“Yes,” Rook breathes, fumbling for a split second, letting go to reach down and grab ahold of his cock. “Yes, John.”

“That’s quickly becoming my favorite word.” John purrs, before his head snaps back into the shower wall with a bitten off gasp.

The tip is already almost too much. John’s tight, as tight as Rook thought he might be, but he eases open so well for the gentle rolls of his hips. Takes and _takes_ , Rook’s cock stretching him open, so much slick there it’s more about his control and less about lack of lube that it goes as slowly as it does.

John tips his head upright when he’s inside all the way, body clenching down where his knot would be, eyes half-lidded and glazed. 

“You feel just as good as I thought you would. As I dreamed you would.”

“No more dreaming.” Rook tells him with a snap of his hips, dragging a mewl from John’s throat. “You want it, you come get me. Don’t care what the fuck I’m doing. I’ll stop whatever it is and bend you over.”

“Promise, promises.” John tries for levity but it’s ruined by the way the words shake. 

By the way _he_ shakes, a fine tremor all over as Rook takes it slow, sinks inside and pulls back like it’s a lazy Sunday afternoon. There are going to be marks on Rook’s shoulders tomorrow from his nails, the way they dig in and scratch, and Rook can’t fucking wait. He loves it when John leaves bruises and tears in his flesh, loves having the reminder.

“I’m not some virgin.” John snaps, one hand fisting the back of Rook’s head, hair pulled tight between his fingers. “Fuck me like you want to break me.”

“Y’know, normally,” Rook slams forwards, so hard it rattles his bones and makes John scream behind clenched teeth, “I’d be concerned about someone asking for that. But with you, it’s just cause you’re needy, huh? You just want and _want_.”

“Yes,” John hasn’t let go of his hair but it’s alright, it’s good, it’s grounding. “I want you. Want everything you’ll give me.”

“Good thing I like giving you what you want.”

And he does. Braces his hands against the wall, John’s legs over his forearms, propped in the curve of his elbow. Thrusts so hard every smack of their hips hurts, like he’ll have bruises tomorrow. Every time he sinks inside, tip to base, Rook loses his breath for a second at the hot grip of John’s muscles.

He can’t knot him. Not standing up. They’ll collapse before it goes down. And John’s body will hold him so tightly that falling would probably result in an ER visit for them both.

Fuck.

“John, _John_ ,” Rook tries to catch his attention, tries to drag John’s head upright from where it’s lolling loose on his shoulders. “I can’t--if I knot you, we’re both fucked. I can’t, not here.”

“I _want_ it.” John snarls at him, teeth bared and _fierce_. “I waited long e-fucking-nough. Give it to me.”

Rook laughs helplessly, forehead coming to rest against John’s chest, hips still pumping. 

“I’d hurt you. I know I would. How about--fuck--how about I save the knot for your heat? Lock inside you for the first time when I know I can knock you up.”

John curses, snaps, but there’s an acceptance in the darkness of his gaze. He knows it’s the better option, logic overriding the lust for a split second. He palms the back of Rook’s head with his free hand, both of them sank into Rook’s hair, and yanks until Rook’s mouthing at his throat.

“Bite me then. Give me your mark. If I can’t--if you won’t--then give me this.”

John comes the split second Rook’s teeth clamp down. It’s not quite where a mating mark would be, a little higher--because Rook wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted the world to know John belonged to someone--but it does the job well enough. John locks onto him, so tight Rook can barely thrust any deeper than he is, and whines so loud Rook’s ears ring in the aftermath.

He can’t help but come. His knot swells, pulses painfully in the open air, and he can feel his cock jumping inside the clutch of John’s body, filling him up. If he’d knotted in, there’s no way he could’ve stayed standing for the entirety of it. John’s going to grip onto him like a vice and Rook can’t fucking wait.

As it is, he gently loosens his jaws, coaxes his body into letting go. There’s a perfect and sluggishly bleeding imprint of his teeth left behind and it nearly sends Rook’s knees out from under him. John looks so good like this, lax and lazy in his arms, eyes barely open and body loose, trusting Rook to hold him.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” Rook can’t help but breathe, licking out over the wounds, cleaning off the blood and leaving behind a small kiss that has John humming.

“Might’ve been told it a time or two. Never mattered until now.”

“Gonna say it until you get sick of hearing it.” Rook promises.

It takes a long few moments but John’s body eases, the grip loosening enough that he can pull free with soft gasps from both of them. He lowers John back to his feet, catches him when his knees won’t quite take the weight immediately, and noses into his temple.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep. You gotta help me get clean.”

“You’re a grown Alpha.” John grins, but presses their lips together anyhow, hand already reaching out.

The shower finishes far less frantically than it had started when Rook stepped inside. John was slow, careful, taking his time scrubbing Rook’s hair. There was a moment, when they were washing each other off, a tangle of limbs and soapy suds, that Rook had to yank his hips away with a hiss when John thumbed over the sensitive head of his cock. 

“Insatiable.” He’d chastised, only to be met with a smirk and a purred, “you love it.”

Rook doesn’t bother getting dressed once he steps out and dries off, simply tossing his towel into the hamper and striding out into John’s bedroom. He can feel John’s gaze on his back and, were he not slowly coming down after the workout, he might be tempted to offer up a round two.

As it stands, he’s fading fast and John probably has actual work to do. Instead of just bouncing on Rook’s cock for the rest of the day.

“Mind if I crash out here?” He asks around a yawn, John eagerly nodding behind him.

“Of course, of course. I’m heading out--I have a few things to do. You’ll stay? For dinner? When do you work next?”

“Got another overnight tonight. Same as last night.”

He slips into bed, purrs at the way John’s scent instantly gets all over his skin from the way it clings to the blanket. The bed is absolutely sinful, plush enough to embrace him but firm enough to support his back, and Rook splays himself out with a groan. He twists his head, watches John get dressed for the day with appreciating eyes. 

Honestly, he could get used to this.

“Do you need me to stop by your house again?” John grins over his shoulder. “I personally don’t mind you walking around naked--or letting me buy you a new wardrobe. But I know you’ll have some nonsense protest.”

“You get mouthy when you’re well fucked.” Rook grouses, rubbing his hands across his gritty eyes as John laughs. “No, just--I’ll need to clean my uniform so I can wear it tonight. You have a washer and dryer around here?”

“I’ll have it dry cleaned.” John says, like that’s a thing normal people say.

“I can wash my own clothes.”

“I’m well aware. But I’m going into town anyway. Work of a moment to drop it off.”

Something clicks in Rook’s brain and he smirks over at where John is already picking up the pieces of the uniform from the floor.

“And pick it up on the way home--just in time to get your scent all over it before I have to clock in.”

“What do you know?” John smiles softly, leaning over the bed to drop a kiss on his forehead. “My Alpha has a brain after all. Go to sleep, Rook. I’ll see you later.”

Rook watches him go--he can’t _not_ , John dresses to impress and it shows every single fucking time he puts on an outfit. But the door closes and the room is blissfully dark and quiet. It takes nothing to flip over onto his side and bury his face in a pillow that smells like John. 

Sleep comes easy and fast and Rook thinks, as his consciousness fades, he could _definitely_ get used to this.

He wakes up to the heat of a body pressed in close and is smiling before he’s even fully conscious. Rook rolls onto his side, closer to the warmth, and drapes an arm over the form buried beneath the blanket.

“Y’know,” he says sleepily, eyes still barely open. “I’m liking this whole “wake up with more people in bed than were there when I went to sleep” thing.”

Jacob rumbles a laugh, gravel rough and a little more exhausted than he sounds, blue eyes barely open to look back at him. 

“Go back to bed. S’not time to get up yet.”

Rook raises his head a bit, glances at the clock on the side table. He’s nearly distracted for a moment by the sight of Judge sleeping on the small couch John has set up against one wall before he lays his head back down. 

“It’s three in the afternoon. Seems like it’s past time to get up, actually.”

Jacob groans, buries his face back in the pillows, and Rook can’t help but nuzzle in close. He strokes a hand up and down Jacob’s back through the blankets, heavy enough he can feel it but light enough Jacob could probably be lulled back to sleep if he was that tired. Everything is warm and soft, including the light streaming in from the cracked open door--probably so Judge could wander in and out at his leisure while Jacob slept.

He wants to stay, Rook realizes with a sudden understanding. Wants this to be his everyday. Coming home from work and taking a little time with his Omegas. Waking up to one of them in bed with him. Sharing the space and learning the ins and outs of who they are, from the embarrassing to the amusing to the heartbreaking and everything in between. 

But that’s moving a bit fast and also, he paid good money for his house. He can’t just leave it abandoned. And there’s other adult things to consider past the childish pipe dream.

Still...one hell of a nice fantasy.

“Keep doing that and I’ll fall right back asleep.” Jacob murmurs, sounding like he’s already halfway there.

“Well, nobody says you have to get up. I have to go be a human and eat something and drink, but you’re welcome to stay comfy and in bed.”

Jacob grunts at him, folding his arms under his pillow.

“Five more minutes then.”

Rook laughs, climbs out of bed carefully, eyes tracking the slow rise and fall of Jacob’s body under the blankets. He looks good there, easy and soft, and Rook’s tempted--so fucking tempted--to just slip right back in beside him. Wake him up from the inside out with a little more body worship.

But his stomach is growling at him and Judge is already lifting his head off his paws and Rook’s pretty sure they’d both get a hell of a lecture from John if they messed up his bed without him being there to join in.

He doesn’t think twice about snagging Jacob’s pants off the ground, slipping into them easily and slipping his phone into the pocket before trudging out the door. Judge follows at his heels, Rook letting him past before closing the door entirely to let Jacob rest. There are a few of the flock on the ground, working on John’s plane it looks like, and Rook offers up a weak wave when they glance his way.

Great. He’s making awesome impressions all over.

It doesn’t seem like anyone else is home, the ranch quiet, and Rook fills the silence by calling his mom and leaving the phone on speaker as he rummages through the fridge. Judge plops down at her cheerful “hello, honey!”, head tipping to the side and ears perking up.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I haven’t called for a while.”

“Well, according to King, you’ve been a bit busy.” She laughs, pleased, and Rook can’t help but flush as he starts to put together his sandwich.

“King should keep his big, fat mouth shut.”

“Oh hush. So, tell me all about these Omegas.”

“You’re not...concerned about the fact it’s more than one?”

“Well, it’s a bit odd. But you’ve always been my odd one.” Rook rolls his eyes. “As long as it makes you and them happy, sweetheart, it’s fine with me.”

There’s a pause and Rook knows what’s coming next, nearly eclipses it with his groan.

“Besides, more Omegas means more grandbabies!”

“Mom, for the love of God. We’re not even actually mated yet.”

“Well, hurry up.” She sniffs. “Do you know how much I hate having to listen to Karen chatter on and _on_ about her grandkids while I sit politely and nod? I need pictures. I need something to shut her up. She is going to be _flush_ with envy when I show her my son’s beautiful Omegas. Plural!”

“How’s Dad taking all of this?”

His mom goes quiet for a second and Rook nearly drops his food onto the floor. His heart sinks, feet carrying him closer to the phone like he can force out an answer by proximity. His voice quivers when he prompts a quiet “Mom?” and Rook hates how much he sounds like a child in that moment.

“Oh! Oh sweetie, no, no, your father is happy for you! He’s thrilled! He just--” She blows out a frustrated sounding breath. “You know how he is. He wants to study the effects of more than one Omega on an Alpha. What it does to your brain and whatnot.”

Rook laughs despite himself. The sinking feeling is gone, replaced by amusement and love for his family. His dad’s always been a scientist, always wanted to take things apart, and it makes sense. He’s one of the foremost experts in the area on Alpha/Omega relationships, right down to the chemical makeup in their blood that makes them what they are.

“Jesus, you scared the life outta me, Mom. I thought he was pissed or something.”

“Of course not. He’s just being stupid about it all and clinical instead of _familial_ and he has been informed that if he asks any stupid questions, he’s going to sleep on the couch for the following days.”

Rook sees movement out of the corner of his eyes, lifts his head and grins around the bite of his sandwich. Jacob doesn’t look impressed as he descends the stairs in just his shirt and boxers but there’s a smile on his face. Until he speaks and Rook can’t move fast enough to point out the phone.

“You could’ve taken John’s clothes. You fit them better than I do.”

“Is that one of your Omegas?” His mom is almost too loud in the silence and Rook _watches_ Jacob go from redhead pale to loss-of-blood pale as he comes to a screeching stop halfway to the kitchen. “Rook? Rook Rhys, you answer me right now.”

“Ah...yeah, mom. That’s Jacob.”

“Let me say hello!”

“Mom,” Rook groans, resisting the urge to palm his face as his cheeks go red. 

He shrugs helplessly at Jacob, who looks like he might bolt any second. Rook feels his shoulders sink a bit when Jacob doesn’t stride any closer--it’s fine. Like he said, this is still new. It’s not fair of him to expect Jacob to just dive headfirst into chatting with his family. Especially given the shitshow his own parents were.

He’s just opening his mouth to offer up an excuse, tell his mom Jacob’s on his way out the door or something, when Jacob interrupts him.

“Hello, Mrs. Wylde.”

“Jacob, honey, hi! It’s so nice to--well, I suppose I can’t say meet you but it still fits.”

“Ah, yeah. Nice to meet you too, ma’am.” Jacob looks like he wants to _die_ even as he comes closer and Rook would laugh if he didn’t think Jacob would punch him right in the face for it.

“So, Rook has been particularly difficult--and God knows King is no help--tell me about yourself, sweetheart! I feel like my son’s living his whole life without his mom there to see a single bit of it.” She sniffs, overly dramatic, and Rook rolls his eyes at Jacob’s panicked glance, chewing loudly on his bite. 

“She’s being a drama queen. Mom!” Rook raises his voice, loud enough that she can hear him over her immediate protests. “Jacob just woke up. Be nice to him.”

“I am being nice!”

“Ah, I don’t really know...what to tell you, ma’am.” Jacob says, cutting off Rook’s retort. “I’m just...a guy, I guess. A really lucky one, but just a man. Kinda...boring.”

Oh, well, that just won’t do.

“Jacob’s a former All American.” Rook tells her loudly, grinning when Jacob glares at him. “You know--like Uncle Mack.”

“Goodness gracious, more military men in the family.” His mom sounds amused. “But former is good. Means I have far less to worry about. What do you do now, Jacob?”

“I...uh...I help run a recovery church with my brothers. Helping people find the right path again. And I help run the veterans center down here too. Guess I just...help.”

Oh dear God, Jacob looks like he might pass out. He’s visibly uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, Judge tucked up tight next to his leg. Rook feels so bad for him. His mom is a powerhouse even over the phone and Jacob is so clearly thrown Rook wouldn’t be shocked if he actually _did_ turn and bolt out the front door.

“Well, I think that’s amazing! Lord knows the world needs more people who help, you know?”

“Uh...sure. Yeah.”

Rook’s ready to start making excuses, get his mom’s attention back on him and fast, when the front door swings open. Jacob turns his head, looking a bit like he’s seen an angel from Heaven when John steps through it with a grin on his face. He swings his gaze between Jacob and Rook--lingering on Rook’s bare chest so long Rook’s tempted to rub a hand across it to tease--and gets two steps forward before Jacob’s seizing the phone and crossing the floor towards him.

“Enough about me, Mrs. Wylde. My brother John just got home. I’d hate to take time away from you two introducing yourselves. It was very nice to meet you, ma’am!”

John almost fumbles the phone when Jacob all but throws it at him. He holds it carefully, like it’s made of something precious, before he taps the screen and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Mrs. Wylde? Hi, I’m John.” He pauses, grin stretching. “It’s so nice to meet you as well! Oh, yes, Rook’s told us about you--but not _nearly_ enough. I’d certainly like to learn more, if you’ve got the time?”

Rook wants to groan as John shoots him a smirk and starts up the stairs, away from his eavesdropping ears.

“Oh you’re on your break? Absolutely _wonderful_! So, first off, I have to thank you for raising such a _kind_ and considerate son--”

Jacob sags when the upstairs door closes on John’s cheerful tone. Rook shoves the last bite of food into his mouth, crosses to him, and opens his arms when Jacob turns to face him. Jacob goes into them easy, head on Rook’s shoulder, and he winces at the slight scent of distress that clings to him as he pats a hand against his back.

“Sorry. I didn’t have time to warn you. My mom can be...a lot. She means well, but--yeah.”

“It’s okay. I just--it’s all well and good over the phone. But I don’t want her to get to like me and then actually _meet_ me and just--”

Rook tips his head back, tucks a finger under Jacob’s chin and lifts it, arches a brow.

“Do I need to find a brightly lit room to show you that you’re being dumb again?”

“I certainly wouldn’t complain.” Jacob huffs, but he’s smiling. “Yeah, alright. Still. Just--gonna need more warning for the actual meeting in person. And probably John and Joseph with me. I don’t do people very well.”

“No, but apparently John does.” Rook says wryly.

“He’s going to be her best friend. John wants a family, always has. He’s going to have her telling embarrassing childhood stories before you know it.”

Rook groans but he’s not irritated by the thought in the slightest. His mom has always been a beacon of warmth, a soft place to land even when he and King were being uncontrollable shitheads in their teenage years. If anyone would be a good found-family for the Seeds, it’s his. And he doesn’t have any problem sharing--god know his family has enough love to go around.

“She’s busy, it’ll probably be a while before you meet anyone in the family, actually.” Rook presses a kiss to Jacob’s temple. “But I promise I’ll give you more warning next time.”

“Warning for what?”

A click of Judge’s nails, hurrying across the foyer to welcome Joseph home as he steps inside, has both of them turning. Joseph drops an idle hand to greet Judge, brows down low as he watches Jacob step back from Rook’s embrace.

“Is everything alright?”

“Mrs. Wylde called.” Jacob hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “John’s probably talking her ear off upstairs right now.”

Joseph turns his eyes towards Rook, regards him. Rook feels a twinge of guilt, raises his hands before Joseph can even get the question out.

“It’s fine. It’s alright, she called me and he has my phone. It’s not like--I’m alright with it, really.”

“If you’re certain…” But _Joseph_ doesn’t look certain, a bit nervous still.

Rook sighs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“I think...we all need to sit down and have a long talk.”

And they do. It takes a bit to get everyone settled, Joseph going up to get John after Jacob’s steadfast refusal and coming down fifteen minutes longer than it should have taken, a slight flush to his cheeks. Dinner plans are thrown out the window in favor of ordering pizza and Rook sets his second slice down once he’s demolished his first, clearing his throat to grab everyone’s attention.

“So I feel like, we should probably discuss some stuff.”

There’s a unified sigh as the brothers set their food down and John looks like he might just start to pout. Joseph clears his throat, nodding along.

“I agree. I should be the first to apologize. It was never my intention for you to feel as though we went behind your back or sought out another when you weren’t...realizing our intentions. And I, admittedly, held my brothers back from giving any more hints than they did out of fear it would ruin everything.”

“But if I had been even slightly less oblivious to what was going on, you guys wouldn’t have had to do any of that.” Rook argues. “I mean, I had--what? More than ten people telling me what was going on? And I just kept denying it because I didn’t want to be wrong or overstep.”

“Your mother raised you well.” John murmurs, reaching over to curve warm fingers over his wrist. “We can’t blame you for being kind-hearted.”

“You can blame me for being an oblivious dumbass, though.”

Jacob snorts, waving a hand.

“Ended up alright though. It was rough but we’re here now. _You’re_ here now. So all that came before is just better left in the past. We’re stronger for it but it doesn’t need to be a part of the future.”

“And speaking of the future.” Rook spreads his hands wide. “I know I’m supposed to extend the hand. I get it. But now...can you guys be a little more...participative? I’m not a mind reader, you guys have to tell me what you want. What you need. If it’s me guiding this ship, I gotta tell you, we’re headed for rocks in like half a second.”

Joseph and John laugh, shaking their heads, and Rook scowls at Jacob when he nods as if to agree. He offers him a grin around the next bite of pizza and Rook’s instantly distracted by the flash of teeth. It takes him a minute--and Jacob fucking knows it given the smarmy look on his face--but he manages to refocus.

“I don’t know where we go from here. I know that I want you, all of you, and I know you’re okay with that. You want me too. But the logistics of this are…”

“Does it have to be logical?” Joseph points out. “Love rarely is. It is illogical and often foolish but it can be pure and good nonetheless. My brothers and I live our lives independently, following what little guidelines God has given, and exercising His gift of free will. I see no reason it cannot be the same.”

“All I’d like is to sleep in the same bed.” John shrugs. “And mine is clearly big enough, we all know that. Past that--I’m open to suggestions.”

“Well...I do still have my house. And I like my house. I don’t really wanna sell it.”

“Rent it out.” Jacob suggests. “Unless you’ve got a weird Alpha thing about people in your space.”

“I don’t...love the idea.” Rook admits.

“We are not going to ask you to give up your home.” Joseph says, shooting a glare at John when he opens his mouth with a scoff. “You are free to go between our home and yours.”

“Provided you’re alright with visitors.” John says with a wink as Rook laughs.

“My door’s always open to you guys. You know that. I wouldn’t--ah-- _really_ wouldn’t complain about you guys in my space. Leaving your scents wherever you want.”

“You’re big on scents, huh?”

“I’m big on your scents.” Rook nudges Jacob. “I like ‘em. They feel...feel right. Feel like home.”

“As they should.” Joseph shrugs. “We are home. And you are home. The location matters little.”

“So we just...go by the seat of our pants?”

“We find what feels good and we keep doing it.” John tells him which makes Rook snort.

“Pretty sure that’s gonna lead to us in bed and not doing a hell of a lot else.”

He has to sit back at the sudden twist of scents, rising above the smell of garlic and sauce, winding around his head until he’s glad he’s sitting because his knees shake a bit. It’s hot and heady and Rook can’t even fucking imagine, if this is how they smell normally when they heat up, what they smell like when they’re actually _in_ heat.

“Alright,” he says slowly as the brothers stare at him. “So...that’s something you’d all be perfectly content with.”

“We’re content with _you_ ,” Joseph says softly. “Anything else is...a pleasant bonus.”

Well.

Alright then.

Rook relaxes with a smile, reaches out for another slice of pizza. 

“Same here. As long as I’ve got you guys...I’m ready for whatever life has to bring.”


	20. A Final Interlude

To say Joseph is nervous would be incorrect. He knows his flock will love Rook; they’ve been eagerly asking about him numerous times since that day when he let his own worries get the best of him. But _Rook_ is nervous, shifting beside him in the seat, and it’s spreading over to him just like the now comforting scent of his shadows and old-books is spreading into the cab of the truck.

“You don’t need to be nervous.” He murmurs, reaching out and smoothing a hand over Rook’s thigh. “Eden’s Gate loves you already. They just want to meet you.”

Rook spares him a small smile, tight and uneased by his words, before his eyes flick back to the road. One hand drops from the wheel, landing atop his and squeezing gently.

“I know. Just...you know. Want to make a good impression. The church is important to you--I want to be accepted.”

“You’ve already been accepted. Now all that remains is just being introduced.”

Rook laughs, a bit strained, shaking his head. Joseph is glad John and Jacob had other things to do today, as much as their absence makes him feel incomplete. He imagines Rook would be more stressed, imagine more scrutiny on him, if he had to split his attention between all of his Omegas and the flock. 

The truck slows to a stop at the gate and Joseph leans over slightly, smiling at the followers who beams when he sees him.

“Elijah. How has patrol been today?”

“Uneventful, Father, but we are ever vigilant.” 

Joseph huffs a laugh--Elijah is one of their younger members and desperate to find his place and earn his keep, despite many assurances he needn’t do so. He’s unaware of how much he’s needed, in truth, his neutral Beta scent and temperament the perfect balance to the Omegas and Alphas of Eden’s Gate.

All too much like how Rook was once unaware of his own importance. 

“Anymore unexpected and irritating visitors?” Rook asks carefully, voice light like he’s idly curious.

Elijah scowls and Joseph can’t help but sigh at the overprotectiveness of his Alpha and his flock and Jacob. 

“No. But for the best. Brother Jacob has instructed us we are to protect the flock from any and all threats and we intend to do just that.” He pauses. “Just as you protected the Father when he collapsed.”

Rook murmurs something praiseful despite the red that spreads across his cheeks and Elijah flushes as well, likely fighting back a grin at the approval of an older Alpha. 

“Do remember to take care of yourselves as well.” Joseph says lightly as the gates swing open and they’re waved through. “Our defenses are nothing if they are not strong.”

“Yes, Father.” Elijah nods and Rook offers him a small wave as he accelerates into the compound proper. 

“So...that’s not something I have to call you, right?” Rook asks as Joseph points him down a small dirt road that will eventually dead-end behind the chapel. “The whole Father thing?”

“You may if you wish but I would never require it of you.” 

“I’m working on it.” Rook sighs softly. “The whole--religious thing. It’s not gonna be a quick process but…”

“Take all the time you need.” Joseph leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek as Rook parks where he’d been directed. “We have one another now. Everything else can come at its own pace.”

Joseph can’t bring himself to pull away, especially once Rook rumbles out a low growl of contentment. He should; he knows some of the faithful had already been heading towards them when they’d spotted the truck pull in. But he allows Rook to cup his cheeks, drag him into a kiss that sets his glasses askew, heats up something deep inside. Rook’s controlled but it’s tight, coiled in the strength of his arms and shoulders when Joseph runs a hand from wrist to shoulder. 

“Control yourself.” Joseph reprimands teasingly when Rook pulls back to breathe. “We have an image.”

“Right. Yes. Image. Got it.” Rook glares down at his lap and Joseph can’t help but trace his gaze to where the black jeans are tented at the zipper. “Just give me like...a minute.”

He can’t help reaching out but Joseph curls his fingers before they make contact, eyes flickering up to meet Rook’s at the sound of a warning snarl. Rook’s sweating slightly, just the barest sheen over his forehead that can’t be attributed to the heat quite yet. 

Joseph wants. For a moment, he’s tempted. More than tempted. He knows none of his flock would ever blame him, would be enchanted by the concept of their Father so in love he couldn’t help himself.

But he cannot preach control to his flock and show none himself.

“You have quite the crowd eager to see you.” Joseph diverts the attention, distracts, waves a subtle hand towards the congregation gathering outside the truck.

They’re a respectable distance away, probably giving Rook and Joseph space in their moment of privacy, but he can see the cheerful grins on their faces. See the way a few lean into one another, whispers and wonders shared in the moment of anticipation.

“Okay, well...yeah, I am completely flaccid now.” Rook groans, killing the engine with a quick twist of his wrist and bouncing the keys nervously in his palm. “Stay close to me?”

“I won’t leave your side.” Joseph promises before opening the door to the welcoming calls of his flock.

He keeps that promise. Stays at Rook’s side, arm hooked through his as Rook greets the flock. He’s amazing with all of them from second one; curling his scent in close and inclining his head when greeting the unmated Omegas, stand straight and proud with his scent slipping into the air and around Joseph as he shakes hands with the Alphas, and relaxing into an easy-going grin and familiar words when exchanging pleasantries with the Betas. 

Rook’s cheeks stay a consistent shade of red, likely from the numerous and enthusiastic thanks he receives for taking care of him after he’d collapsed, and Joseph can tell he’s fighting between accepting the praise and staring aghast that the flock thinks it’s something he _needs_ to be thanked for.

“We are so happy to finally meet the Father’s Alpha.” Rebecca enthuses, a new member who’s just barely started her path to recovery.

Joseph can still occasionally smell the sharp acidity of heroin on her, though he knows she’s clean. It’s deep into her blood but she’s settling well, a will of absolute steel.

And the reason for that strong will is currently leaning his little weight towards Rook with one outstretched hand. 

“Oh, no, Jeremiah--”

“Oh, it’s alright.” Rook says immediately, stepping just a bit closer. “If it’s alright with you?”

She hands him over with a wide smile, her gentle Omega scent flaring for a split second as Rook carefully hitches Jeremiah higher on his hip. Joseph can hardly blame her, though something with sharp teeth snarls in the back of his mind. He edges closer, watching Rook coo at Jeremiah and laugh when it earns him a soft giggle.

Rook looks...good with a child in his arms. All his focus narrowed down to a point of love and affection in a split second. He chats with the boy as though they’re old friends and Jeremiah is an adult, not the seven month old he actually is. 

Joseph fights down the immediate pang of need. Of want. Of slight envy. He wants to see Rook with his child one day, with his brothers’ children. Loving and soft and everything their father was not. 

Rook will be an amazing father. He knows this like he knows the hymnals for Sunday worship. Like he knows the Lord’s Prayer.

“Uh-oh, I think somebody wants the Father instead of some random.” Rook laughs as Joseph come back to focus, allowing Jeremiah to grasp two of his fingers and leaning in to gently press their foreheads together.

“He’s greeting me but he’s certainly not eager to be free of your arms.” Joseph murmurs, watching as Rook’s cheeks flush slightly. “I suppose children are more perceptive than adults. They know a good heart when they find one.”

“Ah, I think he just likes how soft my shirt is.” Rook laughs it off but there’s a seriousness to his eyes that spells his thanks in big letters. “Alright, itty bitty, I gotta pass you back to your mama, okay? I’m liable to spoil you rotten if I hang onto you for too long.”

Rebecca laughs but there’s something eased in her scent when she accepts Jeremiah’s wriggling form from Rook. Hope, maybe. Satisfaction in the proof that not every Alpha is like the one she escaped from when she came to Eden’s Gate. The scent permeates as Rook greets every tiny child he’s presented with, from those old enough to introduce themselves to the slightly swollen stomachs of those just barely pregnant. 

One of the Omegas, a woman named Emily who cups careful hands around her stomach at first when Rook drops to his knees to coo at the infant inside, even asks Rook shyly if he has any experience in delivering. He laughs it off, of course, but there’s a spark of something there in his eyes.

If Rook hadn’t been a Sheriff’s Deputy, Joseph thinks with a soft and adoring smile, he’d have made an amazing midwife. 

It takes a bit but everyone gets to meet Rook, talk with him a bit. Joseph steps in when Rook’s smile starts to become tight around the edges, eyes a little cagey. He steps in close, leans into Rook’s body when an arm slides around his waist almost instantly, and holds up a hand to the people still gathered around.

“I believe my Alpha needs a bit of a rest. Worry not,” Joseph calls over the disappointed murmurs, “I am certain you will all be seeing more of him.”

He doesn’t lead Rook to the chapel, though it’s certainly the closest option. Members of Eden’s Gate know that they are never truly barred from entering the church at any time and Joseph is unwilling to prevent them even for the sake of privacy. It only takes a few moments to walk to the small building he uses to prepare for the sermons, to rest on days when he’s at the compound from the break of dawn to the dark of night. 

It’s little more than a room, divided into a small seating area near the kitchen and a bedroom in the back with a bathroom being the only other room. It works well enough, though, and Rook heaves a heavy sigh the second the door closes on the few that had joined them on their short journey.

“Eden’s Gate has...a lot of members.” Rook says finally, hands on his hips. 

“It does.” Joseph inclines his head. “We have built something truly amazing here and I am so grateful to have you be a part of it, no matter how small.”

“Can’t imagine Jacob does well with the crowd.”

“Jacob tends to stay to the mountains and disappear quite quickly after the sermons.” Joseph allows with a laugh. “Though I’m wondering if perhaps he won’t be alone on his escape attempts from now on.”

“Well,” Rook offers him a chagrined smile, “I promise I won’t go running _every_ time.”

Joseph stares at him for a moment. It seems all too good to be true, on occasion. That he and his brothers would finally find the Alpha meant for them, for _all_ of them. And that Rook would accept it, accept them, as easily as he has. Rook is an amazing Alpha, will be an astonishingly good mate, and Joseph can’t even find words to describe how good a father he will one day be. 

“Come with me.” He says simply, offering up a hand that Rook eagerly accepts. 

He pulls him towards the bed in the back, twisting to push lightly, slipping onto Rook’s lap once he’s seated. Rook’s hands find his hips instantly, gripping just tightly enough Joseph has no fear of falling, and he purrs when Joseph drapes arms around his neck. 

“What happened to controlling myself?”

“We have privacy here.” Joseph snorts. “More so than we did inside the truck, certainly. And I’m simply spending time with my Alpha. If you feel any...inclinations towards sin, it’s certainly not my doing.”

Rook rolls his eyes with a growl.

“Inclinations towards sin. I’m _always_ feeling a bit sinful around you.”

He presses his hips up, like Joseph needs the proof, and Joseph shivers at the way his body heats from the inside out, going liquid and hot in his Alpha’s hands. Rook’s pupils dilate as he inhales, scents the air, tugs Joseph in impossibly closer.

“If you don’t want to--if you’re not comfortable with--” Rook lets out a shuddery sort of sigh. “Stop me now. _Tell_ me now.”

“I can think of no better time to be with you,” Joseph cups his face, brings it upwards to press the barest of kiss to his lips. “In the commune God had commanded me to lead with the Alpha He saw fit to create for me. For my family. If this isn’t ordained in some way, little else could ever be.”

Rook says something almost blasphemous, bites it off and buries it in a growl that radiates through them both. He seems to consider something for a moment, eyes shuttering, chest expanding as he drags in a ragged breath.

“Can you--take your pants off. And turn around.”

Joseph clambors off onto unsteady legs at the order. It’s work of a moment to kick his shoes to the side, Rook’s hands helping to ease down his pants until they’re laying discarded on the floor. He feels a bit shy, for a split second, when he turns and can no longer meet Rook’s gaze.

Joseph knows what his back looks like. Similar to Jacob’s and John’s, marks of a past that have scarred their way into skin and soul. 

But the worries are eased instantly as Rook grabs hold of his hips, guides him gently backwards until he’s sitting with his legs on either side of Rook’s thighs. It spreads him wide, almost makes him a bit sheepish at the lewd positioning, and his hands are a bit tight when they grip Rook’s forearms once they slide around his waist. 

“Is this okay?” Rook asks, nuzzled up behind his ear. “You doing okay?”

“It’s fine.” Joseph says shakily, keyed up, already hard between his thighs. “Everything is--whatever you want.”

“Just wanna watch you fall apart.” 

Joseph lets his head fall back, exposes his neck without a second thought as he whines. He’s unpracticed and it’s louder than he should be, but he can’t help it. Rook presses the barest hint of teeth to the side, not biting, simply holding him in place as one big palm wraps around his cock. 

His free hand dips lower, brushes the curve of one cheek, and Joseph can’t help but jolt when careful fingers press against his hole. He’s wet, he’s practically dripping onto Rook’s pants at this point, and the slide is easy but his body is still...unused to the attention.

It makes it better, in many ways. Rook’s fingers feel even larger as his body clamps down around the two he cautiously and slowly presses inside. Joseph reaches back with one hand, the other digging crescent marks into Rook’s forearm, and slides a hand into his hair. Keeps Rook in place and grounds himself all in the same movement.

“You’re so good for me, you know that?” Rook coos in his ear, wrist pumping slowly as his fingers gently stretch the tight hold Joseph’s body has on them. “So patient and sweet. Just content to let me take my time with whatever I wanna do to you.”

“N-not nearly as patient as I appear.” Joseph says, breathes, fingers spasming tight in Rook’s hair at a particularly wicked twist of Rook’s wrist. “I can’t--”

“No, no, I remember. You tried and it didn’t work. But you don’t have to do that anymore, you know? Never have to try and get yourself off alone again. I’m here for you. Every part of me, whenever you want it.”

“Dangerous proposition.”

“I’m begging you to take advantage of it.” Rook hums against his pulse. “Take advantage of me. You’ve gone for without for so damn long and I hate how much I love it. Love that I’m the one who makes you come, makes a mess of you.”

Joseph can’t find words because he can’t find breath. It feels too hot, especially when his thighs twitch as Rook slides a third finger inside. He’s moving now, no longer content with simply flexing his fingers inside Joseph’s hole. The thrusts are a mockery of what Joseph wants, what he craves.

The thrill of being caught, even secluded away as they are, makes him moan, shake in Rook’s hold. His eyes catch the door for a split second and Joseph can’t help but rock down against the next thrust of Rook’s fingers.

Did they lock it? He can barely recall even getting inside, too desperate to have Rook to himself. Someone could open it at any moment and the small wall that divides kitchen and bedroom will be little cover. They’d still be able to see them, see Joseph writhing in his Alpha’s lap as he’s slowly driven mad.

“Please,” he turns his head, catches Rook’s mouth in a kiss that’s sloppy, angled wrong, and perfect all the same. “I need you to--I want to come.”

“There’s my Omega.” Rook purrs at him, biting into his bottom lip for a split second, like he can’t help catching something between his teeth. “That’s what I wanna hear. Want you to order me, tell me what you want. No more waiting around for me, Joseph. I want you to take what you want.”

He does. He’s unskilled, sloppy, movements more need than planning and forethought. Rocks his hips between Rook’s grip and the insistent press and stretch of his fingers. The world tips around him, hazy, everything in his body coiling around the sensations at his hips. Joseph knows he’s talking, mindless babbling pleas for Rook to give him what he needs, but he can’t hear the words over the roar in his ears. 

“I’m going to--”

“Come on then,” Rook snarls, teeth set against where a mating mark would go, a hint and a promise. “I want you to come for me. Fall apart under my hands. Know that nobody else is gonna work you out like I can.”

Joseph comes with a half bitten off cry, something in the back of his mind keeping him quiet despite the scream coalescing in his chest. It’s a sob of Rook’s name as he locks around thick fingers, hole desperately wanting something even thicker. 

Rook jerks at his back, like he can’t control the thrust of his hips, and Joseph twists as best he can, pulls him by his hair into another kiss. It’s more teeth than anything else, like Rook is holding onto control by a thread. 

It’s heady, the power he has over his Alpha. How close Rook looks to coming simply by servicing him. His cheeks are flushed, eyes dark and glazed, jaw flexing like he’s grinding his teeth simply to keep them off of something.

Joseph sags in the aftermath, whining softly when Rook carefully pulls his hands away, earning him a shaky shush. 

“I got you. I got you. Relax.”

He allows himself to be maneuvered, trusting Rook’s control and power when his whole body feels limp. Joseph stretches lazily once he’s on his back in the bed, skin over sensitive to the scratch of blankets he doesn’t lay in as often as his own. Rook’s a looming, protective presence at his side, staring down at him in wonder. 

“You didn’t--”

“I don’t need to.” Rook quiets his protests with a kiss, gentle compared to the ferocity of earlier. “God, I don’t even need to. Seeing you like that was enough. You are...fucking amazing, you know that?”

Joseph smiles, draws Rook down until he can cuddle into his side, soaking up the warmth of his body and the scent of him, thoroughly mixed with Joseph’s own now. 

“You know? The sentiment is quite mutual.”


	21. Chapter 11

And so life goes. The rest of the week slips by, tumbling through the weekend and past. Rook does, at least, attempt to spend some time at his own house--though he’s usually joined by one of the brother’s halfway through. 

Judge finds a place to lay squeezed between the couch and the coffee table, a living foot warmer that doesn’t mind as long as Jacob and Rook scruff bare feet over his side every so often for pets. Joseph leaves a Bible on his mantle, something that might have irritated before but now only reminds him of the man every time he glances at it. John’s clothes are everywhere, discarded in frantic undressing and usually found when Rook’s searching under the bed for something or--amusingly--once caught on the curtain railing.

He attends the next Sunday’s sermon--in a clean white shirt and a pressed pair of slacks, though John had said absolutely not to a suit jacket. The congregation was cheerful and welcoming once more, if still a bit overwhelming. Rook had spent a good portion of that day in bed with the brothers as they removed every trace of anyone else’s scent and replaced it with their own. 

He thinks, idly, that he’s going to have to stop the brothers from jumping him post church visits or it’s going to be an interesting sort of classical conditioning for his cock.

He learns new things every day. How Joseph prefers a few pieces of toast in the mornings as opposed to a more filling breakfast. How John actually sleeps curled into his side most of the time but falls asleep splayed out like a starfish. How Jacob likes to shave with an actual knife as opposed to a traditional razor--which had been so heart-stoppingly hot he’d had to stop halfway through for Rook to bend him over the counter. 

Sex is...pretty much constant now. He’d almost expected it, given that these were three Omegas who went without for far longer than most. 

Rook learns how to ease Joseph open with his fingers, stretch him until he’s sobbing and ripping the sheets off the bed as he pleads. Learns how Jacob actually doesn’t mind a lot of light in the room, but is far more...adventurous in the dark, more teeth and a hell of lot more rough. He learns John is almost insatiable and it takes little more than a sideways glance to have him wet and pressing up into his side, whining and groping at him.

He’s with Jacob, at the Veterans center, when something shifts. He can practically feel it in the air, thick and heavy, and it has his shoulders crawling up around his ears. His feet pound towards Jacob’s office, climbing the stairs two at a time. 

There are sirens, he reminds himself firmly as his heart picks up pace in his chest, if something was truly wrong they’d be going off.

Which does absolutely nothing to quiet the sirens in his head.

There’s two soldiers at the top of the stairs when he rounds the corner, nearly slamming into the female Alpha who holds her hands up.

“You feel it too?” She asks, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. “The change in the air?”

“What’s going on?” Rook demands, slammed to a stop despite everything in him screaming at him to move. 

Both of them shrug their shoulders and Rook fights back the urge to snarl. Someone had better tell him _something_ soon or so help him--

“Get Jacob out of here.” A male Omega in scrubs flies out of his office, slamming the door shut behind him. “He’s going into heat. Get him home.”

There’s a momentary pause and Rook tips his head, trying to figure out where the fuck the distant growling is coming from. All the dogs are outside, no storms on the horizon…

It’s only once the soldiers start backing away he realizes it’s coming from _him_ , deep and warning, vicious. He clamps his lips shut, swallows back the growl, and nods sharply. His stride takes him to Jacob’s door fast and he sways at the overpowering scent that hits him like a tidal wave the second he opens the door.

Jacob’s standing in the middle of the room, in the process of swinging his pack over his shoulder, and he holds up a hand when Rook snarls.

“Not here. Get me home, Alpha.”

“You shouldn’t have gone around others when you were close to it.” Rook snaps, his Alpha screaming at him to mount, fuck, _claim_ . “You should have stayed home.”

“I thought I was clear. Was supposed to start this weekend. When I didn’t, I figured I was gonna skip this one.”

“Clearly fucking not.” 

Rook doesn’t think twice about throwing Jacob over his shoulder when he gets close enough. Jacob doesn’t struggle but he does grip onto the back of Rook’s shirt and starts talking to the people they pass by as Rook turns and stomps his way to the car. He knows he’s sending off enough of a screaming warning with his scent alone, all about the “Mine. Fuck off. _Mine_ !”, but he can’t help the occasional warning growl when an Alpha wanders too close.

“Don’t forget to run the dogs through a few more practice laps, they’re losing speed on the third turn! And call Eli, let him know what’s going on, tell him I have to postpone training for a bit. Make sure the probies get enough protein, their stamina is shit in the ring.”

“Jacob, can you fucking focus?”

“I _am_ focusing.” Jacob tells him with a smarting smack to the back of one thigh. “I’m not an Alpha. I don’t lose my goddamn mind to hormones at the start and this is just the beginning.”

Fucking hell. If this is Rook’s reaction to the beginning, he’s going to be absolutely fucked by the time Jacob’s lost to his own heat.

Jacob’s a lazy and loose sprawl in the passenger seat when Rook dumps him there, watching him with amused eyes as he shuts the door and crosses quickly. Getting into the car is almost worse, given how is traps him with Jacob’s gunpowder hot and springwater clean scent. But there’s a clarity amongst the lust in his mind, demanding he get his Omega somewhere safe, somewhere private.

Enough to let him drive. And enough sense of forethought to call Joseph as they go.

Goddamnit. Why did St. Francis have to be so fucking far away from the ranch?

“Rook?”

“Hey, look, are you at home?”

Joseph chuckles. “My brother is in heat. Of course I’m home.”

“Did someone call you?” He tips the phone away from his ear, glances over at Jacob. “Did you call Joseph already?”

“Nope.” Jacob’s eyes slide over, slitted like a cat and heated. “Had better things to think about. Like getting your knot inside me.”

Rook hisses and has to concentrate very hard, for a split second, on keeping them on the road. He glares at Jacob but it’s half-hearted, melted when Jacob purrs in response and stretches languorously. 

“Jacob’s in heat?” Joseph asks in his ear and Rook refocuses instantly, confusion warring with his hormones. 

“Yeah, you just said you knew? I’m bringing him home.”

“Rook, I meant _John_ .” Joseph says lightly, like he didn’t just drop a fucking bombshell on Rook’s lap. “John’s in heat. It hit roughly two hours ago. I was just picking up the phone to call you when you called me.”

“Why didn’t you call me the second it hit?!”

“Because this is what is to be. I saw this, Rook. Saw Jacob and John in their heats and you there to help them, guide them. I wanted to wait until I knew for sure both of them had started, that this was what was to pass.”

Rook’s getting better at dealing with Joseph’s occasionally frustrating adherence to the commands of his God. He’d thrown away his cigarettes, cut himself down to maybe one beer at his own house, and had even made promises to try and attend at least one sermon a month.

But he wants to _snarl_ at Joseph right now.

“I’m not ready, I didn’t stock food or water or--”

“I did.” Joseph wipes away his worries with a murmur. “I did as I was commanded. Provide and protect. Assist. Everything they need is at the ranch. At home.”

“You’re a total saint.” Rook breathes.

There's a pause and then a soft huff of laughter.

“You’re too kind. Get home quickly, Rook. I doubt John will be patient much longer.”

The call ends with a click and Rook presses the pedal to the floor. He’s not in his cruiser or he’d have the sirens going and the lights flashing to get him there faster. Jacob’s shifting in the seat at his side and Rook relaxes his hold on his scent, letting it mix with Jacob’s, hoping it will calm him.

John’s been in it for longer. He has to prioritize. John first and then Jacob and then whatever happens afterwards. Go with the flow but keep a steady mind. 

“I can wait.” Jacob says softly at his side, like he’s reading Rook’s mind. “Take care of John when we get there. He’ll be sinking fast.”

“I’ll take care of you both.” Rook tells him seriously, reaching over to pat around until Jacob grasps his hands. “I promise. I’ll prove I can.”

“You don’t have to prove shit. We know how good you are. S’why you were chosen for us.”

“See, you keep saying stuff like that and we’re not gonna make it home.”

“Focus on the road, Alpha.” Jacob grins at him but it’s tight, controlled. “You’ve got an Omega waiting for you.”

“Got a really pretty one sitting beside me who needs me too, though.”

“Drive, Rook.” But Jacob’s grin stretches from ear to ear and his cheeks are bright red. “Save all your stupid one-liners for when we’re in bed together.”

It takes longer than it should to get home. Traffic isn’t so much an issue as Rook’s own body arguing with him. He’s split between focusing on the road and focusing on Jacob’s little hitched breaths next to him, the way he occasionally grunts and shifts like something pulled tight inside. He’s an absolute mess by the time he shoves the car into park and all but tumbles free, dragging in deep gasps of fresh air to try and re-stabilize.

It doesn’t help. John’s scent is so strong he can smell him from outside, citrus in his nose and wrapping around his brain and cock until he has to throw a hand out and brace himself on the hood or risk going to his knees.

Jacob’s unsteady but there, next to him, pushing in close and curling a hand around his nape.

“He’s inside. He’s so close. You just gotta make it there-- _we_ just have to make it there.”

Joseph rips the door open the second they hit the porch. He looks understandably strung out but there’s something more, a glimmer in his eyes, just like when he preaches. 

“The garden has come to bloom.” He cups Rook’s cheeks, tips their foreheads together for a split second. “I saw and I was Chosen and we have been rewarded.”

“Where’s John?” Rook all but gasps, stumbling inside, head twisting this way and that.

The smell is everywhere. Mixing with Jacob’s, confusing him, but _entrancing_ him nonetheless. It’s probably why he doesn’t realize John’s there until he stands up from the couch, turns to greet him with a breathed “Hello, Alpha.”

Rook doesn’t think twice. He trudges forward, catches John around the waist, and slings him backwards onto the cushions. John opens his arms, his legs, easy as breathing and Rook comes down on top of him like a beast. All snarled breaths and greedy hands ripping at his clothes. 

John laughs but it’s more a amused whine, head tipped back to expose his throat. It doesn’t take any time at all to get his pants around his knees, Rook’s barely opened more than what he needs. It’s not right and it’s not proper but it’s fucking _amazing_ when he nails deep inside, John’s laughter suddenly twisting into a mewl.

The position, the scant removal of clothes, is more suited to some bar bathroom tryst than Rook servicing his Omega in heat but it fucking works. Works like he never thought it would. John’s molten around his cock, writhing against the cushions, cursing and begging him.

He can feel Joseph and Jacob’s eyes on him and it only makes him thrust harder, pin John beneath him, the couch creaking under the pace and the severity of his hips. He’s got more than one Omega to take care of, Jacob’s scent is turning hot and liquid in the air as he watches, but John comes first.

Literally.

Rook doesn’t stop it this time. Doesn’t try to pull back. Grits his teeth on a roar when John’s body locks tight around his knot and he convulses under him. It’s gorgeous and heady and _raw_ , how John loses himself to the pleasure of it, and Rook feels a swelling howl in his throat.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

John sags in the aftermath, boneless and gasping, fingers biting bruises into Rook’s forearms. His eyes are glazed over, barely open, but there’s a smile tugging at his mouth.

“You’re big. Always knew you were. Knew you’d stretch me open perfectly.”

“You should have called me. The second you knew you were in heat.” Rook admonishes lightly. “I would’ve come straight home, you know I would have. I told you--anytime.”

“Blame Joseph.” John stretches under him, satiated for the moment, and the movement pulls on the lock until they’re both shuddering and hissing out strained exhales. “My God...you’re fantastic.”

“We’re also stuck like this for at least ten minutes.”

“Perhaps we should move this to the bedroom?” Joseph suggests lightly, cautiously moving closer and placing a hand on Rook’s lower back when there’s no snap.

It’s dangerous to get near a tied pair. Rook’s been taught this over and over, his parents fearing what might happen if he or King got too close to one another or walked in at an inopportune moment. But he doesn’t feel any swell of protectiveness, no need to lean down over John and shield him with his body.

John’s clearly lacking any possessive tendencies too, if the way he lazily grins at Joseph is any indication.

“Someone’s going to have to carry me. He’s so _big_ , Joseph. I don’t think my legs work anymore.”

“Good to see you’ve still got your wits about you. For the moment.” Joseph’s hand rubs against his lower back, soothing away any aches from the position before they can set in. 

Rook twists his head, looks over the back of the couch, tosses his head when he sees Jacob’s still lingering by the door.

“Get over here. You’re next.”

“Demanding.” Jacob hums but complies, stacking his arms over the back and leaning in for a kiss that Rook gives up eagerly. “I’m too damn old to be dealing with my heat and fucking on a couch. Bed or bust.”

“You weren’t too old for screwing around in a truck bed.” Rook teases, watches Jacob’s cheeks light up as he grumbles at him.

“I wanna fuck in a truck bed.” John says lightly from underneath him. “Sounds fun! Sounds dangerous. Exhilarating.”

“I cannot believe I have to point this out but you are both--are _all_ \--people whom the congregation look to for guidance on behavior.” Joseph looks ready to throttle all of them. “Perhaps a bit more thought towards future...endeavors?”

“You can’t say it’s not appealing.” John’s insatiable, wriggling around, tugging at the tie until Rook thinks his knot might just swell again despite _just_ starting to go down. “Come on, Joseph, think about it. Flat on your back on the Earth, Rook above you and making you scream under the moonlight. Surrounded by God’s creations and tied with the Alpha He saw fit to give us.”

Joseph flushes, clears his throat, shifts in a way that makes Rook think he’s hiding an erection behind the loose fitting sweats. Rook eases back when his knot shrinks enough to allow it, hissing out a pained breath at the way John’s body tries to cling until it simply can’t anymore. John makes a soft noise, discontent and slightly irritated, but Rook hushes him with a grin.

“C’mon. Upstairs. Gotta take care of Jacob.”

“Right, yes, Jacob.” John eyes his brother who looks decidedly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Oh, this is going to be a sight to be beheld.”

“John, behave.” Joseph chides, steadying Rook as he puts his weight back onto his feet and off the couch. 

Jacob’s shivering slightly when Rook finally rounds the couch, cock tucked away but pants still undone because they’ll be on the floor soon anyhow. He can smell the way the heat is slinking through his blood, burning him up from the inside out. His fair coloring doesn’t do him any favors in hiding it, a flush high and hot on his cheeks as Rook drapes an arm around his shoulders, uses his body to corral him towards the stairs.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“I’ll bring John up.” Joseph says from where he’s helping John right his clothes. “Along with some food and water.”

Rook calls a distracted thanks but his focus is on Jacob. His shoulders are lines of tension, fighting back the sink into heat, and his body moves like he’s expecting to collapse any second if he relaxes even slightly. He’s half tempted to throw him over his shoulder _again_ , but Jacob makes his way up the stairs without issue, hesitating slightly before his hand makes contact with John’s bedroom door.

“If I can--if you don’t care--”

“What do you need?” Rook asks instantly, getting them both inside and already working on stripping Jacob out of his clothes. “Anything. You know that.”

“On your back again?” Jacob asks, almost meek if not for the everything about him. 

Rook nods, doesn’t trust himself to speak when something catches tight in his throat. Jacob above him is every wet dream he’s ever had all at once and he doesn’t want to seem too eager but--damn.

The clothes get thrown all over, care abandoned in favor of “naked and quick”. Jacob’s not gentle when he muscles Rook onto the bed, sprawled out with hands already reaching up towards him, but it doesn’t matter. Makes it better, actually.

He’s hard still and Rook isn’t sure if it’s because his body knows he’s got Omegas to satisfy or just because his Omegas are so fucking hot everyday, all the time.

Doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now except the way Jacob grips his cock with calloused but gentle hands, adjusting minutely until he can sink his weight back. The slick heat rips a gasp from his chest and Rook grips Jacob’s hips as stars burst behind his lids when he closes them for a split second. He can’t help the twitches, random muscle spasms as his body tries to adjust to being inside someone for a second time in such a short span. 

Jacob doesn’t seem to mind, smoothing his palms down Rook’s chest until he’s found a comfortable brace, hips already rolling. Rook turns his head into the pillow, trying to ground himself best he can, and only succeeds in dragging John’s scent into his lungs from the bedsheets. 

Fuck.

“Gonna be a hell of a knot to sit through in this position.” He warns, Jacob nodding even as his breath turns to gasps.

“Yeah. Fucking--I know, I know. Just let me--”

Jacob’s thighs are works of art as he fucks himself on Rook’s cock, muscles flexing and twitching wildly. Rook gets a hand between them, wraps it around Jacob’s cock, takes a chance and sees it pay off in a big way when Jacob’s breath stutters at the first swipe of a thumb over the leaking head.

“Y’know,” Rook says, almost conversationally if he had more stability to his voice, “I don’t mind getting fucked. Don’t have that Alpha shithead mentality about it. So if that was something you wanted…”

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

But Jacob’s cock jumps in his grip, jerks with the thought he planted in Jacob’s mind. The door opens and Joseph and John slip inside but it’s barely noticed as Rook locks gazes with Jacob. 

Challenging.

Promising.

“I’ll bet you’re one hell of a fuck. Bet you’d feel so perfect inside me. Bet I’d pop a knot just by feeling you come and fill me up.”

“Now this sounds like one hell of a conversation.” John purrs, sliding into bed next to them, sliding one hand into Rook’s hair and the other across his chest. “Is Jacob going to fuck you?”

“Want him to.” Rook thrusts up into the next drop of Jacob’s weight, the smack obscenely loud and wet with how much slick Jacob’s leaking. “Want him to pin me down, mount up.”

“Motherfu--” Jacob bites the curse and the following gasp of his name off, locking down tight around him.

And he means tight. Rook’s eyes roll back in his head as he gasps, legs kicking out against the sheets, hands flexing where they hold Jacob’s waist. The coax of Jacob’s muscles has his knot popping in no time, swelling until the grip around it is almost too much and there’s black at the edges of his vision.

Jacob sways in place, come-drunk and woozy, eyes barely open as he peers down.

“ _You’re_ a good fuck.” He slurs, weight pinning Rook to the bed as he leans forward onto his hands and hisses at the way the change of position tugs. “Fuck. You’re so goddamn big.”

“You guys are gonna inflate my ego.” Rook grits out, still trying for levity even though his whole body is screaming with pleasure.

John laughs, at least, tucked up close to his side, hands everywhere. Jacob doesn’t but, to be fair, Jacob’s still rocking on his knot like he wants it deeper. It’s sending shockwaves down Rook’s spine, harsh and ripping, but he can’t find the breath or desire to ask him to stop.

Not when his head is tipped back and he’s letting out little hitched gasps everytime Rook’s cock nudges up against something particularly sensitive inside.

Rook trades off for a bit, whatever brother grabs hold getting his attention for the moment. There’s a split second, when Jacob and John’s scents swell at once and Rook’s nearly set toppling by the force of it, that he panics. Can’t figure out which one to go to first. Can’t rationalize who needs it more when they both need it so badly.

But Joseph is there, his scent sharp and clear through it, settling his mind and racing pulse. 

He crawls into the bed with them, steadying Jacob who’s gone in his heat by this point, little more than growled demands and sharp teeth. Rook winds up knotting John and stretching Jacob open on his fingers, barely done pulling his teeth from John’s throat before he’s being shoved and pulled over to his next target.

They all pass out by the time the sun’s gone down, splayed over and under each other’s bodies, the air conditioner hissing loudly as it tries to keep the temp in the room level with so much body heat.

Rook opens his eyes to slick heat around his cock, hands reaching up and grabbing hips too slim to be Jacob’s. John grins down at him, a bit manic, rational thought gone out the window in place more “more, now, please.”

“You said I could take what I wanted whenever I wanted it.” He reminds him, Rook’s head grinding back into the pillow as he gets ridden like never before.

“Yes, take what you want. Use me. _Fuck_.”

“He’s good on his back.” Jacob mumbles at his side, pressing absent kisses to Rook’s shoulder. 

“He’s _amazing_.” John gasps, the compliment warming Rook from the inside out as he drags John down on his cock.

He’s fairly certain they all survive the entire thing because of Joseph. Steadying scent and soft hands, guiding Rook to where he needs to be, quieting his brother’s when the heat makes it almost painful to be without a knot. Rook drags him in a few times, usually when Joseph’s busy pressing a water bottle or energy bar into his hands, kissing him desperately and murmuring out hurried thanks.

The few times Joseph tumbles into bed, batting away any hands trying to coerce him into being a more active participant, are a whirlwind. It’s heady, too many bodies and too many hands. Rook loses track of who’s grabbing him, turning into kisses, putting teeth and tongue to whatever skin he can reach. 

It’s sometime around the next morning, when the heats are winding down--”They burn faster with a partner,” Joseph had explained quietly, “and with it being shared and with our intended, I am unsurprised the window is as small as it is.”--when John starts yanking at Joseph’s clothes. He’s on Rook’s hips, speared on his cock and rolling his hips in lazy little tugs at the knot while Jacob tries to rehydrate next to them. 

“Come on. You need to be a part of this.”

“I’m not in heat.” Joseph protests, but it’s weakened by the constant demands and he allows John to push and shove him--

Right over Rook’s chest. Knees planted on either side of his shoulders.

“You have the _best_ ideas.” Rook breathes, linking his fingers behind Joseph’s lower back and yanking forwards until he can wet his tongue with the slick that’s already dripping down Joseph’s thighs.

Joseph falls apart as easy on his tongue as he has before, thighs shaking on either side of Rook’s head, clearing his mind despite the utterly lewd act that should be distracting him. His fingers bite into Rook’s shoulders, his scalp, scratching and clawing as Rook sinks his tongue in deep and flattens it over his hole.

By the time he tumbles off, John’s slipping off his body too, collapsing into a heap at his side. Rook watches with satisfied eyes as Joseph tries to stand, unsteady on shaky legs, and winds up having to sink back into bed at his side.

But then Jacob’s pulling on him and pulling him on _top_ and Rook’s attention is gone. He winds up rumbling endearments over and over as Jacob shakes beneath him, one leg hooked over his forearm so Rook can nail in as deep as he needs to. Jacob almost looks like he’s in pain but he comes faster than he has before, even in the depths of his heat, free leg snapping tight around Rook’s back like he has any intention of going anywhere.

“Maybe...maybe I like you on top too.” Jacob says when Rook comes down over him, caging him in with his arms and body. 

“Anytime you want it. Just tell me. Just _take_.”

He tries to shower once John and Jacob are asleep next, slipping from the bed gingerly, making his way into the bathroom. He gets his hair clean before there’s a whine from behind and he’s back to pinning John against the wall once more. Rook has the foresight to sink to his knees this time, John’s back a wet arch under the spray pounding down as Rook locks inside him, one hand under his stomach.

John’s fingers slide over it, twine with his.

“You think...think you fucked a pup into me? I’m not on anything. And you’ve filled me up so much.”

He has. John’s got so much come inside him that it’s almost too slippery, frothing up around his hole when Rook slams inside and dripping down both of their thighs. The sheets are probably going to have to be tossed at this point.

“Maybe. Maybe. You want it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” John breathes, before the shower cuts off and Joseph’s urging the both of them back into bed.

He can feel when the heats start to dip, when the intensity lessens, and _that’s_ when he asks. Asks the question that’s been on his tongue since he first smelled Jacob in his office.

Fittingly, he asks Jacob first. Waits until Jacob’s in his rightful and comfortable place on his lap, riding him slowly like he’s got all the time in the world. Rook noses against his pulse, wrinkles his nose at the scratch of his beard, and lets his tongue flash quick against the skin.

“You want me to bite you? Mark you?”

Jacob doesn’t answer, not with words. But he palms the back of Rook’s head and forces it into the curve where shoulder meets neck. They both come when the bond snaps into place with the sharp sink of his teeth, blood welling up hot on his tongue and Jacob even hotter around his cock.

John doesn’t need to be asked. The next time he has John under him, is mounted up with a foot braced on the bed so every single slam of his hips has the headboard banging a deeper hole into the wall, John demands it. 

Tosses his head, looks over his shoulder with glinting eyes. 

“Mate me, Alpha. Show the world who I belong to.”

Rook hears a distant “sching!” in his head when the bond yanks tight between them. Like completing a video game level or earning an achievement. John goes limp under him, hanging off his knot, ass arched up into Rook’s rolling, gentle thrusts as he traces fingers over the deep wounds.

They’ll scar by later tonight. Heal up quick and stay.

But that’s only two. And God didn’t intend for him to only have two.

His body disagrees with his burning need to complete the triad immediately. He wakes up flat on his stomach, sprawled between John, who’s curled onto his side with his even breathing ruffling the shorter hairs on Rook’s head, and Jacob, who’s got his head on Rook’s forearm and is a wall of heat despite his _actual_ heat fading.

Joseph pulls his attention away, stepping free from the bathroom with a bowl carefully cupped in his hands, a rag thrown over one side. No steam rises from it which means it must be cool--precisely what Rook needs right now since he feels like he just fought and won some sort of strange holy war.

He takes a moment to regard him. Joseph doesn’t look quite as worn out as Jacob and John do, but there are still black smudges beneath his eyes. His body is littered with small scrapes and bruises, from where Rook held on tight or where his brother’s reached out for stability. He’s wearing Rook’s pants and little else, the waistband slung so low Rook can see the barest hint of hair there, and his hair is still down from when Rook had pulled the tie free to sink his hands into it hours ago.

Rook carefully gets an elbow under himself, extracting it from under Jacob’s head and smiling softly when it earns him a grunt and the press of Jacob’s forehead to his spine in response. He reaches out towards Joseph, hand splayed wide.

Extend the hand. And receive everything he’s ever wanted in return.

Joseph smiles at him, shifts the bowl into one hand to link their fingers together with the other, so close his thighs are brushing the edge of the mattress.

“You know...in a way...I’m glad we waited.” Rook says softly. “It took me too long to figure it out and I’ll never make up for that but...worth it. I think, at least.”

“We were prepared to wait as long as it took. Salvation does not come to those who rush Eden’s Gate.”

“This felt right. Felt like that rut before was...practice. Almost? Like I had to get all the energy out so I was filled with new.”

“And perhaps it was.” Joseph allows with a tip of his head. “God has a plan. This was always to be part of it.”

“Never put much faith in all that before.” Rook admits somewhat sheepishly, watching Joseph cautiously grin and set the bowl aside.

He accepts the kiss eagerly when it comes, too exhausted to do more than allow Joseph to press their lips together gently.

“And now?” He asks against Rook’s mouth, soft and subtle and almost _hopeful_.

“God gave me you. All of you. I figure...worth putting some faith into after all.”

Joseph draws back with a grin so wide it looks like it hurts. Rook doesn’t let him go far, though, tugging on their joined hands until Joseph tips his head and makes a questioning noise.

“C’mere. Still gotta make you mine. It’s not right if it’s not all of you.”

“I thought, if you wanted to wait until my heat--I certainly won’t object but--”

“Joseph,” Rook chides, guiding him until Joseph can crawl up the length of his body, turning and sitting up to slide slow hands up and down his sides. “I don’t need a heat to make me do it. I’ve wanted to put my mark on you since you looked at me in the church that day.”

“I never expected that extending the hand would be so literal.” Joseph admits with a small laugh.

“But it was.” Rook presses wet kisses up the curve of Joseph’s shoulder, slowly moving towards where his body already wants his mouth to go. “So--what’dya say? Be mine?”

“I’ve been yours for a very long time now.”

Joseph’s hand slides around his nape and Rook doesn’t think twice, snapping his teeth down. It feels different this time. Likely because he’s gotten all his Omegas nice and mated up, sated, relaxed, and protected. There's a peace that settles over him like a shroud, one that only grows more welcoming when Joseph’s hitched little sighs wake John and Jacob. 

They sit up, a hand on each of his shoulders, nuzzling into either side of him. Rook’s surrounded by men he loves, men he’s mated, and everything in him is practically purring in delight.

Nope, Rook realizes with a wry grin when three assenting hums join the chorus of the rumbling emanating from his chest. Make that _literally_ purring in delight.

So he didn’t realize it at the start. Railed against the very idea because he was terrified of losing them, not only as potential mates but as friends. So he made a few mistakes. Misunderstood some signals that, in hindsight, should have been big red flags of interest.

He can deal with being oblivious. Oblivion is just a state of mind. Minds change like rivers, shifting with the tide and the environment around them.

But happiness, the sort of true happiness he’s found with Jacob and Joseph and John, is a state of _being_. It encompasses him, makes him more than what he is alone. Turns one Deputy into a rallying call, a beacon of hope and a safe place to land for Omegas who’ve deserved that and more for so long.

Guess he made the right decision in coming to Hope County after all.


	22. The Epilogue

“John, we are going to be late!”

Rook looks up at Joseph’s exasperated yell, hands smoothing down Judge’s fur as Jacob neatly locks his harness into place. He hadn’t thought Joseph capable of yelling when he first met him, had figured he was too soft spoken for it. As it turns out, much like any other younger brother, John brings it out in him in force.

“I can go grab him if you want?” Rook suggests.

Joseph turns and arches a brow at him. “We both know if John gets you into the bedroom, we’ll be even more behind than we already are.”

Rook grins sheepishly, Jacob rumbling a laugh as he pushes back to his feet. He slings an arm over Rook’s shoulder, whistling a high sharp note that has Judge dancing around his feet and John’s exasperated yell echoing into the main room.

“I’m _coming_!” He stomps through the door leading to the bedroom, fingers still doing up his buttons. “It’s a festival. We literally cannot be late to it.”

“We are on a time schedule,” Joseph tells him tightly.

Rook tips his head, looking aside at Jacob. “We’re on a time schedule?” he asks on a whisper, Jacob curiously refusing to meet his eyes as he nods.

“Joseph’s big on...schedules.” It’s a really lame response and Jacob knows it, given the way he tries to distract Rook by pulling him into a kiss.

It’s not fair. But it works really fucking well, he’ll give him that.

He hears John make an affronted noise and then hands are smoothing down his chest, tucking into his belt. He smiles against Jacob’s lips, pulls away in time to see him roll his eyes in affectionate exasperation.

“Still shit at sharing.” He grumbles good-naturedly at John, who simply beams and urges Rook into a kiss for himself.

It heats up faster than Jacob’s did--because of course it does--and Rook has to lean back slightly on a gasp when John’s hand curves over his cock. John has his head tipped slightly, enough he could explain it away as getting a good angle on the kiss, but Rook’s eyes find and catch on the mating mark exposed by the action. 

“Manipulator.” He teases, John whining with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“I _am_ newly mated. I’m allowed to want to just stay in bed with my Alpha.” John nips at his lip, tongue swiping out to smooth away any aches. “Or on the couch. Or over the kitchen table. Wherever he wants it, really.”

“John. Rook.” 

Oh, he doesn’t like that tone in Joseph’s voice. He doesn’t get reprimanded very often but he hates it just the same. Rook tips his head to the side to look around John--which unfortunately bares a lot of skin that Jacob wastes no time putting teeth against. Joseph is staring at them with his arms across his chest, looking seconds away from tapping his foot on the floor. 

“Let’s just skip the festival,” Jacob suggests against his pulse as John drags him into another scorching kiss. “I don’t like crowds anyhow.”

“We cannot,” Joseph snaps, reaching out to physically drag John away by the back of his shirt. “Enough. The both of you.”

“It’s not like the plans will get _ruined_ ,” John protests as Jacob leans out of Rook’s personal space with a sigh. “They just get changed.”

“What plans?”

Joseph shoots him a scowl that has Rook frowning, before Jacob uses his grip to turn and steer Rook towards the front door.

“You two sit and argue about timetables and plans. Rook and I will be in the car.”

“That’s not going to help us be there on time either!” John shouts at their retreating backs. 

Rook pauses, one foot inside the car, staring up at the plane flying overhead. It’s not Carmina--Nick’s grounded since Kim’s due any second now--and he didn’t know anyone else was out flying today.

But the annual Testy Festy brings out all sorts, he supposes, climbing into the interior as John and Joseph emerge from the house. He wouldn’t put it past someone taking their plane out for a flight to impress the crowd.

They get on the road with minimal complaining or bickering, Rook settling in the back alongside John--who immediately squishes up against his side to avoid getting Judge’s hair on him. It’s a losing battle at this point, most of what Rook owns is covered in a thin layer of Judge fur, not that he’s complaining.

“Guess he claimed you too,” Jacob had told him once with a laugh as John all but attacked his uniform with a lint roller before Rook made it out the door.

“Are you going to win me a stuffed animal?” John asks, lips turned and tucked up against his throat in ways that make Rook shiver.

“I will win you as many as the rigged games allow me to.”

“John,” Jacob’s eyes glance into the rearview. “You can _buy_ yourself a stuffed animal.”

He’s right. The past week has been more settling in with each other, learning more and more with every passing day. Filing the paperwork to be recognized as mated pairs. He’s not quite sure how John managed to get them all certified, but he thinks the fact that they all run a church had something to do with it. 

One thing Rook’s learned is that the Seeds are _flush_ with cash. John’s inheritance and pay as a lawyer are massive enough, but adding in Jacob’s pension from the government and Joseph’s pay-off from when John had found the useless fucks who thought their fists were a good source of amusement and sued them into the ground?

Rook had thought he made pretty good money as a Sheriff’s Deputy. As it turns out, he makes nice spending money while his Omegas take care of all the bills.

It’s alright with him though. Just another thing to brag to people about when they ask about his mates. He’s already been told to shut up by nearly everyone at the station, and he’s pretty sure even Nick and Kim are close to duct-taping his mouth shut by this point.

“It’s not the same.” John snaps, kicking at the back of Jacob’s seat with a scowl.

“John.” Rook claps a hand down on his thigh, cutting off Joseph. “Be nice or no stuffed nothing.”

“Thankfully someone else can be the bad guy.” Joseph murmurs from the front seat as John pouts at him.

“Oh, he can be very, _very_ bad,” John purrs and okay, yeah, not ideal--

“John, I am not going to fuck you in the backseat of a moving vehicle,” Rook tells him sternly.

“Doesn’t have to be here. There will be all sorts of darkened corners and hideaways once night falls at the festival.”

“He has a point,” Jacob agrees with a tip of his head that has Rook groaning.

“Isn’t like--half the congregation going to be there? Absolutely not. I have to go to _church_ with these people.”

“Or more.” Joseph points out as Jacob turns into the field that’s been transformed into a parking lot. “I’m certainly glad Rook has the sense you both seem to lack.”

He doesn’t. Not really. But he also knows the Sheriff’s station will be here. He’s off tonight, but he’ll be on duty tomorrow for the second day of it. And the _last_ thing he wants is to get caught with his pants down by the Sheriff, or Hudson, or--god forbid--Pratt, who’s taken it upon himself to make Rook’s life an embarrassing hell since he came into work with marks all over his throat.

He’d made the mistake, once, of asking if Pratt was jealous. He was teasing, of course. But Pratt had been decidedly unamused, and as it turns out, having coffee dumped on his lap doesn’t feel very good.

Everyone has been, thankfully, accepting. There’s been a few whispers and stares but for the most part the people who matter have taken it in stride. Including a few people exchanging money with good-natured curses and half-irritated demands of “you couldn’t wait like _four_ more months? I could’ve won if you could’ve kept it in your pants.”

His family absolutely adores the brothers. He hasn’t heard much from King, work must’ve picked up suddenly, but he’s called once or twice, just enough to check in and see that he’s finally gotten his head out of his ass and hasn’t backtracked. His mom _loves_ all of them, constantly pestering them to make sure they’re taking care of themselves and eating and drinking properly.

She has a picture of them on her desk at work, one that Mary May had taken of all of them out for dinner. Apparently Karen had been absolutely _emerald_ with envy when she had whipped it out.

Rook bets he knows why. His mom is not subtle. He can just picture her holding the picture up proudly, pointing to each of them with a wide grin and a sweet voice. 

_“That’s Joseph, he’s a preacher. Leads his own church! They do a lot of recovery for addicts and provide a safe haven. He’s such a darling. And that’s John--isn’t he handsome as all get out? A lawyer! He could make it in the big city, but he chose to help the people of Hope County instead. Graduated summa cum laude, of course, but that’s just the sort he is. Oh, and Jacob, the man on the end? Well, I don’t think they_ make _a box big enough for all his medals. Decorated soldier, you know? But not anymore, thank goodness, now he’s home safe and he runs the Veterans Center there. Honestly, they’re all such sweethearts, don’t you agree?”_

His dad is a source of tension for them, though, none of the Seeds knowing what to do with an Alpha father figure who’s gentle and concerned, but they’ve all adapted. His dad dials it back a bit when he’s talking to them, soft spoken as ever but a little bit distant. His mom must’ve explained it. It’s not to say that he’s not just as involved, Rook’s caught the tail end of conversations where he can hear his dad’s voice on the other end of the phone. 

Rook figures his mom doesn’t know about him and Joseph discussing the particulars of their uncommon mating because none of them have received any calls of her profusely apologizing in between shouting at his dad in the background. He knew his dad wouldn’t be able to resist it forever, always trying to find answers to new questions, but none of the brother’s ever seem bothered by it. 

They have plans to fly to Iowa for Thanksgiving and his parents are coming down for Christmas. His mom’s been making noises about them coming to the next Wylde family reunion, but Rook’s dodging them for the moment. Jacob’s still uneasy about the prospect of meeting everyone, though he seems a little more comfortable every time he gets off the phone with her. It’s everything Rook ever wanted and more, and there are times he’s still blown away by his luck. 

It’s only been a little over a week since the mating and the heats. He can’t possibly imagine what the future holds.

What the _immediate_ future holds, however, is a lot of greasy food that will probably make John berate him. Totally worth it.

“I want a funnel cake,” Rook announces once they’ve made their way into the midway proper, glancing around at the booths and carts set up.

“You should probably eat actual food first.” John grumps from his side just as Jacob swings an arm around Rook’s shoulders.

“You wanna tell me where we’re gonna find actual food at a festival?” he asks, dragging Rook off. “C’mon. Think I see a booth for it.”

Rook gets his funnel cake, and John stops complaining the second he sees how often Rook has to lick his fingers free of the powdered sugar. He even takes a small bite of it, though his nose wrinkles up at the grease that clings to his fingertips afterwards. There’s a warmth in Rook’s chest as he holds the plate steady for Jacob and Joseph to take pieces as they please. 

He’s always been one of those Alphas who liked to see his Omegas well fed and satisfied. 

It’s fun and freeing to just wander around, seeing what’s been set up. They get stopped occasionally: members of the flock spotting Joseph and coming up to say hello, kids running and yelling to ask if they can pet Judge before they’re within fifty feet, John spotting a few friends and chatting idly with his arm linked through Rook’s. He’s more than used to it now. The Seeds are pretty prominent figures in Hope County at this point.

It makes him kick his chin just a bit higher, shoulders thrown back. These are _his_ mates. Figures of high-standing who just about everyone in the county know. He’s not prideful by nature but damn if he isn’t feeling more than proud at the somewhat jealous glances he occasionally catches when one of them huddle closer to him or turn their head for a chaste kiss.

Rook sees Kim and Nick by one of the carnival games and makes a beeline for them, the brothers tracking behind. He comes to a stop when Kim turns with a smile, rolling her eyes and shaking the bottle of water in her palm.

“Don’t even start. The doctors said I’m okay to go walking. Said it might actually induce labor, and that’d be just fine for me.” 

“You still have about a week until the due date.” Rook reminds her, reaching out cautiously at her amused nod and curving his palm over her stomach. “Hey there, baby girl. Momma’s putting up the eviction notice but you stay in there until you’re ready to come out, okay? We can all wait.”

“You have everything prepared?” Joseph asks from his side, polite concern on his face.

“Yup!” Nick grins. “Painted the nursery blue and everything. Cause it’s a _boy_.”

“Well,” John murmurs from his side. “We went with a more neutral color for the playroom. Just in case.”

Kim shoots John a thankful grin and Rook can’t help but think back to finding out about the playroom itself. He’d gone looking for his badge, usually thrown onto the desk once he got home, and stumbled across literal blueprints. It’s going to be in the basement, next to what was once Joseph’s room. 

He’d been so thrown by the kindness, by John already making plans to change the house to suit his life as well as their own. Rook had actually been a bit late to work--only by about ten minutes because Jacob had sent Judge herding at his heels and the pup was _persistent_ when given an order--and he’d gotten his fair share of ribbing for showing up with sex hair and a few buttons done up wrong.

“That’s nice and all, but I already know it’s gonna be a boy. So y’all didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

He hears John snort--he’d already told him about Nick’s unwavering insistence about the gender--and Judge nudges up under his arm, sniffing lightly. Kim coos at him, rubbing a hand across his head as he snuffles his way across the stretch of her shirt.

“Aren’t you just precious. Bet my little _girl_ would love a playmate like you.”

“Just let me know,” Jacob offers. “I’ve got a few litters on the way up north, let me get them trained and they’d be a hell of a first birthday gift.”

“You think?”

“Kids need animals. Teaches them responsibility.” Jacob inclines his head, something shared between them for a moment. “And the ones I’m thinking of are Judge’s own pups. You won’t be able to buy a better security system.”

Rook grins over his shoulder at him, warmth in his chest at the acceptance of his friends, but catches sight of John’s face, and it melts away. There’s something longing in his gaze as he looks at Rook’s hand and Kim’s stomach. Something wanted and hoped for. 

It’s too early post heat to figure out if either him or Jacob got pregnant. And it’s unlikely to happen the first heat anyhow. He’d already asked his mom about it. She’d said, with a tinge of disappointment in her voice like she and John had already discussed it, that Jacob was more likely anyhow. Something about a surge of hormones in the later heats of an Omega approaching the age of infertility.

But John certainly seems...hopeful.

Rook slowly takes his hand away, reaches out to wind it around John’s waist instead and drag him in close. It seems to help, John’s expression shifting into pleased joy as he cuddles into Rook’s side.

“If you need anything, just let us know. I’m certain we’ll all be desperately trying to find a way to distract Rook when the baby comes just so he doesn’t shoulder his way into the delivery room.”

“I’m gonna be _in_ that delivery room.” Rook says with a pointed finger at his chest. “Medic. I can deliver a baby.”

“Hope County has perfectly capable OB’s.”

“Nope.” Rook grins at Joseph. “My friends, my godbaby. I will be there and I will help.”

“You seem rather comfortable with the idea of another Alpha helping your mate deliver.” John points out to Nick, who just shrugs and drapes an arm over Kim’s shoulders.

“Hell, she’s threatened to replace me with Rook before. And it’s not like she’s got anything he’s interested in down there--ow!” He rubs at his side as Kim smiles pleasantly and takes a sip from her water. “What was that for?”

Rook can’t help but laugh at the immediate swell of scents from his Omegas, permeating and overpowering the smell of food and others in the air. He takes a step back, aware that his Omegas are pleasant but _possessive_ men. 

“We should head out. I have my phone. Call me if _anything_ happens,” he says to Kim’s affectionate roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, go on. I’m gonna go stuff my face before the doctors try and put me on a breastfeeding diet.”

“Drink water!” Rook yells at their retreating back as Jacob snorts.

“You hover like that over her, and I can’t even imagine the pain in the ass you’re gonna be if you get one of us knocked up.”

“Prepare to live that portion of your life with me constantly at your side,” Rook tells him seriously as John purrs.

“Sounds like Heaven.”

Rook’s shoulders go stiff for a split second, the hairs on his nape standing up. He’s not sure if it’s the pregnancy talk making his hormones go wild but he steps in closer to his mates. His head swings around, searching over the crowd. Rook knows when he’s being watched and _someone_ has eyes on him right now.

But he can’t find them. And the sensation disappears almost as quickly as it had set on. It leaves him a bit disoriented but he hides it well enough, grinning to wipe away the frowns on Jacob and John’s faces.

“So--let’s see what else is set up?”

They keep wandering, John complaining loudly when Jacob stops to grab some “cowboy caviar,” as the sign proclaims it, Jacob seeming to take pleasure in his whining and squirming as he chews obnoxiously loudly. Joseph tucks into his side after a while, seemingly to get away from the people who are constantly vying for his attention. John drags Jacob to a ride--probably to try and punish him for the eating with flashing lights and numerous spins--and Rook nuzzles into Joseph’s temple as he watches John do his level best to spin the teacup fast enough that Jacob throws up.

“You okay?”

“My flock knows they may always come to me,” Joseph says lightly, though his voice drops as he turns into Rook’s body. “Though on occasion I would prefer my attention be a bit less split.”

“We can find someplace quiet and private to tuck away for a bit, if you want?” Rook laughs at Joseph’s arched brow. “Just for some privacy! For you!”

“Privacy and you and I always tends to lead to more.” Joseph presses a lingering kiss to his lips. “Not that I am complaining. But we have an image to uphold.”

“Right, right,” Rook murmurs softly. “Don’t knot you around this many people. Got it.”

Joseph shivers under his arm and pinches lightly at his ribs, a small admonishment despite the grin playing around the corners of his mouth.

“Behave yourself.”

“But that doesn’t turn out nearly as fun as when I don’t.”

“I hate you so much,” John complains, stumbling back towards them on unsteady legs with one hand over his stomach. “I think I’m going to die.”

“You started it.” Jacob says from behind him as Rook hands over the water bottle he’d been tasked with holding. “Don’t let your mouth write checks your ass can’t cash.”

“Rook, he’s being mean,” John whines, shouldering under Rook’s free arm.

“How about I go win you something stuffed and fluffy?” Rook suggests, laughing when John immediately brightens.

“Yes. I want...so many things.”

“I will win you one thing.”

“Why only one?”

“Because I seem to be the designated holder of everything we get and if I have to carry many things, I will not be able to hold you,” Rook points out, John pouting for a split second before he nods.

“Acceptable.”

Rook lets John roam ahead, scoping out whatever game has the best prizes, in favor of keeping Joseph under his arm. It seems to do the trick, members of the church calling greetings and waving but not approaching. John finally waves them down from in front of a booth he’s found, Rook groaning when he gets close enough to see what it is.

Rachel grins at him from behind the divider, popping the gum in her mouth.

“What’s the matter, Deputy Rook? Not a crack shot?”

“I like you better when you’re delivering my food.”

“And not judging you for answering the door in your underwear?”

Rook groans as three heads snap towards him, accusation in all their eyes as Rachel laughs brightly.

“You are going to get me in trouble.”

Rachel hums, holding out a hand. “Give me your money and I promise not to tell them about the time you answered the door with a towel wrapped around your waist.”

“You came twenty minutes faster than it said you would!” Rook complains, digging into his wallet.

His eyes catch sight of the faded track marks on her inner forearms and his stomach drops for a split second. She realizes it, or at least seems to, tucking her arms across her stomach after she’s stuffed the cash into the little box screwed into the counter.

“I was thinking...uh...of maybe coming to a sermon next weekend.”

“You needn’t wait for the weekend,” Joseph says softly, dragging her attention away. “We are always welcome to people seeking to find a different path.”

Rook lets Joseph chat with her, gentle smiles and comforting scent, and relaxes when her shoulders drop from their protective curl up around her ears. She’s younger than him by a handful of years, enough to make him protective, and despite the suppressants that dull out her scent, Rook knows she’s an Omega too.

Probably better that an Omega help her out than an overbearing and worried Alpha.

John drags his attention away, tugging at his elbow as Rook sets the water bottles down on the counter. “The blue bear. I want it.”

“The one with a plane on it’s stomach?” Rook teases, playfully turning away the from shove John gives his shoulder. “Alright, alright. I’ll get you your bear.”

“Oooh, you sure about that?” Rachel breaks from her conversation to grin at him, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. “You gotta knock down all the cans in a row to get that one. In one go.”

Rook resists the urge to huff at her, picking up the bb gun and weighing it in his palms.

“I got this.”

He does not have this. 

He _would_ have had it, had the two in the middle fucking gone down when Rook dinged them instead of wobbling in place and staying stubbornly upright. Rachel seems to take great pleasure in hitting the failure button, a loud buzzer ringing in his ears as he grabs for his wallet again.

“I was just warming up!”

“Uh huh.” Rachel tells him with an open palm and an arched brow. 

She looks thrown, for a second, when more money lands in her hand than she expected and Rook stares in horror at Jacob’s grin.

“That’s not fair. You were a _marksman_.”

“I’m also not getting the stupid bear. I want the wolf.”

“Jacob,” Joseph sighs, but it’s too late.

Jacob doesn’t knock them all down on his first go either. Though that’s probably because Rook makes little dismayed sounds at the ding and drop of every one that comes before. He cheats, a bit, on the very last one, letting his scent uncurl just enough that the tips of Jacob’s ears go red.

It turns into a contest all too quickly. Joseph rolling his eyes at them and keeping up light conversation with Rachel, Judge panting at his side and gleefully accepting pets from every kid that wanders up as he and Jacob spend an obscene amount of money trying to one up each other. John seems torn between cheering for Rook and cheering for his brother, clapping happily when Rook knocks a can over and whistling when Jacob nails two in a row in response.

Rook ignores, for the moment, how hot Jacob looks with a gun in his hands, practiced and controlled, face a mask of concentration but mouth curled into a smirk.

He will revisit that thought later. Jacob has a shooting range at the Veterans Center and it’s private if they want it to be. He’s sure he can find some cans and test just how well Jacob can concentrate with...distractions.

Eventually, though, Rachel gets to hit the success button twice in a row, a cheerful dinging as opposed to the annoying buzzing. Jacob wastes no time in handing the wolf plush over to Judge, who yips and grips it gently in his jaws like it’s a pup. Rook presents the bear to John with a wide grin, who forgoes it entirely for a moment in favor of wrapping his arms around Rook’s neck and dragging him into a kiss.

One that Rook has to stop before it heats up in earnest because John smells like citrus and sunshine and _cheer_ , and it’s more addictive than he thought it might be.

“Later,” he promises hoarsely to John’s slight whine when he pulls back and presses the bear to his chest.

“Go neck somewhere else.” Rachel laughs from behind him, Rook’s mouth opening to tease back when someone in the crowd catches his eye.

He frowns, goes up onto his tip-toes for a split second to see over the heads of the people crowding the fairway. He could have sworn...he knows his brother like he knows the back of his hand. Grew up with those broad shoulders side by side with his own. But it’d be impossible for him to be here, more wishful thinking on Rook’s part more than likely.

He drops his weight back with a sigh when he doesn’t catch any further sights of the shock of blonde and flash of black ink that’s decorated King’s neck since he was eighteen. John frowns at him, catches his arm.

“Everything alright?”

“Thought I saw--no.” Rook shakes his head, forces a smile onto his face. “Everything’s fine. Just thought I saw someone I knew.”

“We could go and try to find them?” Joseph suggests, Rook turning with another shake.

“No, it’s okay. Probably wasn’t them.”

He digs his phone out of his pocket anyhow, checking for any messages. It’s stupid, but he hasn’t realized until now just how much he misses his family. He has his friends and his found-family here, but it’s not quite the same. There’s a distant ache in his chest that he rubs with an idle hand.

His mom was right. Rook’s living his life without them, and it...kinda sucks. Despite all the good.

He doesn’t have any messages from King, though. There’s one from his cousin Janet, responding to the picture he’d sent to the family of all of them at dinner last night. A short “your boyfriends are cute but I hate those glasses. If you have a heart at all, you’ll ‘accidentally’ break the stupid things during sex one time.” that makes him chuckle and type back a “those are my MATES and I happen to like his stupid glasses”. But nothing from his brother.

He’ll call later. Just to check in.

Rook slides his phone back into his pocket decisively, hands on his hips as he tries to avoid meeting any of the brother’s concerned eyes.

“So! Where to next?”

Next turns out to be a truck that serves actual food, Rook firmly putting himself in front of the Omegas after they’ve all ordered and offering up his cash while trying to hold John back with an elbow. The young girl helping run the truck laughs at the display but takes his over John’s which has Rook shoving an extra five into the tip jar with a wink. 

It’s not hard to find a seat, not with the respect the Seeds have in Hope County, and Rook finds himself bumping ankles with Joseph as they eat their way through their burgers and fries. He’s drinking tea despite Joseph’s quiet “you can do as you please, you know” when he caught Rook’s eyes lingering on the alcohol selection menu.

It’s hot and it’s crowded but it’s perfect and Rook can’t keep the grin from his face as he eats. Jacob bumps an elbow into his side at one point, twisting Rook’s head round so he can regard him with a still sunny smile.

“You alright?”

“I’ve got my mates. I’ve got a beautiful day. How could I not be?”

Jacob huffs a laugh but his eyes are soft and he scoots just a bit closer on the bench. “I could think of ways it could be _better_ than alright.”

“If you do not stop--” Joseph pinches the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps I will have to center the next sermon around showing strength in the face of temptation.”

“Oh, yes.” John swallows with a roll of his eyes. “Because you’re not ever tempted. We do sleep in the same bed. And I didn’t get near as much sleep last night as I would have liked to because _someone_ is very loud when he gets fucked.”

“John!” Joseph’s scandalized whisper makes Rook laugh.

The memory is amazing, though the timing could be better. He’s still working Joseph towards taking what Jacob and John feel free to indulge in. Rook had rolled over last night, sleep disturbed by quiet sounds, and had found Joseph squirming in place, already hard and leaking. 

He’d admonished him even as he’d slipped between his thighs, woke up fully once he was already inside him. Joseph _had_ gotten loud towards the end, begging and pleading with nails dug into Rook’s shoulders. It was an indication of how long he’d been worked up before Rook was even conscious, and he’d come with a promise to not do it again.

“Aren’t there fireworks tonight?” John says as they’re all wrapping up the meals. “Are we staying for those?”

“Do you want to?”

“We could go and make fireworks of our own,” John purrs at him, making Rook completely miss his mouth with the next sip of his drink and sputter when it drips onto his chest. 

He’s going to have to do something. Like fuck John into the mattress before they go anywhere--sort of like taking a dog for a jog before bed. Get all the energy out.

Though he doesn’t really mind the misbehavior.

“Jacob, fireworks?” Joseph prompts from across the table, Jacob shifting uneasily at his side.

“Don’t love the idea. But if you guys wanna stay--”

“Nope.” Rook says cheerfully, remembering the few times Jacob has twisted and turned at his side in the throes of a nightmare. “Like John said, there are _plenty_ of better things we could do instead.”

“I can stay for some fireworks. Might be half on top of you, but it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but why settle for half?” Rook drops a kiss on Jacob’s cheek. “We can go home early and you can be all the way on top of me. Just how you like it, right?”

He climbs from his seat, still grinning at Jacob’s low growl, and has just pitched his trash into a nearby container when he’s seized around the neck. Rook twists, catches Sharky when he all but falls against his side, and laughs at the dazed look in his eyes. 

“Have a few more, why don’t you?”

“Dude, man, I am not drunk. Not on beer. I am drunk on _sex_.”

Rook cautiously sniffs the air, no lingering scent of alcohol but there’s also no lingering scent of sex. He can hear his Omegas getting up behind him, carefully brushing up against him more than necessary to toss their own trash. Normally they don’t care about Rook’s Omega friends getting their scent on him, taking the opportunity to re-mark him as soon as they get some privacy, but Sharky doesn’t have good control over his scent on a great day.

Rook’s probably going to get stripped the second they hit the front door at this point and, really, he can’t even complain about the thought.

“You haven’t gotten laid recently, though.”

“But I _will_ ,” Sharky sighs, one hand waving in the air like he’s trying to illustrate his point. “Cause I just saw the daddy of my future babies. And you can’t even _tell_ me he won’t breed good cause I know Alphas. Not a one of them walks like that unless they have a knot the size of a softball.”

“Sharky, oh my god.” Rook groans with a laugh, hearing John’s choked laughter from behind him. “Who? Someone I know?”

“I don’t even know him! But it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna know him real good,” Sharky tells him with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“You _sure_ you’re not drunk?”

“Drunk off the power of love, man!”

Rook throws his head back laughing, holding Sharky against his side as he starts to list off all he knows about his “future mate”. Which is, essentially, how tall he is and how broad and how good his ass looks in the jeans he’s wearing. He’s so lost in the amusement he misses Joseph going stiff for a second at his elbow, dragging his attention around with a light touch to his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“So, _these_ are the Omegas you kept whining to me about.”

Rook stops. Stops laughing, nearly stops breathing at the voice he knows as well as he knows his own. Sharky’s frantically whispered “that’s him, that’s _him_!” at his side sounds like he’s underwater. The world warps around him, centering and clarifying on the figure that’s standing little more than a couple feet away. 

Arms crossed over a broad chest. The glint of dog tags bright in the sunlight just like the lighter portions of his way-too-high and not-so-tight. A familiar smirk and the even more familiar shine of the gold rimmed aviators Rook got him for Christmas two years ago.

Rook stands up a bit straighter, clears his throat, gestures to the man and turns his head to address John. Who’s pressed up against his back and peering over his shoulder.

“Remember how you wanted to meet my big brother? The asshole pilot?”

Rook turns his head back with a gesture, a smile spreading across his face.

“Say hello, King.”

He doesn't miss the way King carefully drags the aviators to the top of his head, making a show of the movement. Doesn’t miss the way he grins at Sharky--and _only_ at him--eyes locked in like he’s spotted a target. Or some sort of defenseless animal in a trap he laid.

“Hello, King,” he parrots in a purr with a single-minded focus to his greeting, Sharky squirming under Rook’s arm with a soft whine.

Well.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! I cannot thank all of you enough, this has been the longest fic I have written to date and I absolutely couldn't have done it without the love and support and encouragement I received. Oblivion is done but the universe has so much potential and please do let me know if there are scenes you wished I had written or something you still want to see, either in the comments here or over at my [tumblr](http://momomomma2.tumblr.com). I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3


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